Seven Feathers
by Erriel
Summary: Go to a future where trainers are myth and humans are no longer in control. Everyone’s waiting for a hero to find the legendary bird of seven feathers. They’ll have to make do with thieves, visionaries, evil imaginary friends, and one scared ten year old.
1. All to Ashes

Epilogue

**All to Ashes**

* * *

Long flames licked ravenously at the tops of the walls, forming a blazing beacon against the night sky. As the fire leapt from building to building, throwing embers helter-skelter into the wind, a pair of figures watched from outside the city gates. One, a boy barely out of his teens, had fixed his eyes on the gate bars. Each fiery flicker reflected in the metal seemed to draw him further in, as if tightening some hypnotic hold on his heart. Slowly, almost unconsciously, the youth took a step towards the gates. Thinking better of his action, he hastily backed away.

"They gotta make it out!" he whispered, hands clenching at his sides. "Maybe we should go back in! If they don't make it out…"

His companion, a Pikachu with scorched fur around its cheek pouches, shook its head. _"Quiet!" _it hissed. _"With the fall of Viridian City, there is little chance any of us will escape now." _

A snap of wood, followed by the groan of caving plaster, signified the collapse of another building. Biting his lip, the boy leaned forward, letting his long matted hair obscure his trembling jaw. Though he had no way of understanding his Pokémon's grim words, he knew as well as the Pikachu did what was about to happen.

In the distance, a sudden crimson blast illuminated the sky. The young human fell into a crouch against the wall's base; the Pikachu beside him stiffened into a battle stance.

A burst of air rushed over the rooftops, causing the flames to dance even higher. The youth heaved a relieved sigh. Staggering onto his feet, he grinned as a lone shadow rose above the walls, its furiously beating wings framed against the swelling conflagration.

"Yes!" he whooped as the emerging Charizard tucked its wings in for a landing. The Pokémon's clawed feet skid several yards upon its hasty touchdown, ripping up clumps of dried grass. Struggling to stay upright, it forced its body into a rapid about-face. Both boy and Pikachu watched anxiously as the Charizard ducked its head and placed its load –a basket overflowing with blankets– onto the ground.

_"Got out right before the Gym went up in flames," _the Charizard heaved. Its leathery hide of scales bore several scorch marks, courtesy of the inferno it had just escaped. _"There's no time now," _the Charizard rushed on. It cocked its snout in the youth's direction. _"Hurry and get onto my back. We have to leave before–"_

The shrill scream of a child splintered the air. The boy's head jerked about, jaw tightening. Though he could not translate the Charizard's rumbling speech, he knew what his Pokémon wanted.

"No! We have to stay and help the other trainers and their Pokémon!" he shouted, starting back towards the gates. "You need to take the Wing and get out of here!"

Quickly, before either the Pikachu or Charizard could protest, he knelt in front of the basket and tugged aside the blankets. Beneath them was curled a sleeping baby, its body rising and falling with each soft breath.

"Hey, don't worry, I'll find you again," the young trainer whispered, touching the baby's cool forehead. "And if I don't, well…" A short, ragged laugh issued up from his throat. "Then I guess you'll just have to be the one to save us all."

Straightening, he pulled a jangling ornament out from under his arm. About a hand-span in width and fashioned from cold metal, the object resembled the profile of a bird in flight. Where the wings should have been, however, hung seven rusted hooks.

Feathers swayed from three of the hooks. The last four were empty.

"Guard the Rainbow Wing with your life," the trainer instructed his Charizard as he tucked the metal object in front of the baby. "We'll get the rest of the feathers once this is all over. The professor's still got one. And there's this."

He produced a long, slender feather from his jacket pocket. It glittered briefly in the firelight before disappearing underneath the blankets. Without another moment of delay, the youth nodded to the Charizard, who hurriedly took the basket's handle back into its mouth.

More flames surged upward, casting wavering shadows below the wall. Woven above the crackling of the conflagration was a series of shouts, some strained in pain, others screaming with rage.

"Go, Charizard, go!" Giving his Pokémon a slap on its flank, the boy bounded backwards, followed hurriedly by the Pikachu. In a rush of air, the Charizard was off, its broad wings pumping up and down for all they were worth.

As the trainer and his Pikachu swerved back to face the wall, the metal gates burst open, releasing a second human and Pokémon pair. The two of them, a willowy woman shoulder-to-shoulder with a towering Arcanine, approached in long brisk strides. One of the woman's hands snaked out as she reached the youth, grabbing his collar and yanking him off his feet.

"Where is it!" the woman demanded, rattling the boy's body.

The young trainer delivered a swift kick to his captor's shins, causing the woman to lose her hold. "Little trainer brat," the woman muttered, rubbing her injured leg. "Kaijin!" she screamed as the boy ran to the gates, fumbling in his pockets. "Do something!"

The Arcanine's ears twitched. Without hesitation, he bounded forward and knocked the youth into the dirt. The PokéBall in the boy's hand went flying, unopened, into the darkness.

The boy gasped as Kaijin's large paws crushed his stomach. The Arcanine above him was an imposing sight, his black stripes so wide that that the orange between them could barely be discerned. The Pokémon's singed, bristling fur stank strongly of smoke. Gagging, the trapped human was not sure which stifled him more: the heavy paws pressing into his stomach or the unbearable stench clinging so close to his face.

"Give it up, trainer," the Arcanine growled, baring his canines. The human words rumbled brusquely in the back of the Pokémon's throat. "Viridian City, the last refuge of you and your wretched fellows, is burning to the ground as we speak. Give us the Rainbow Wing, or that will be your fate as well." He leaned forward, shifting even more of his weight onto the youth's body. Red-hot embers glowed between his cavernous jaws.

Despite the smoke filling his nostrils, and the crushing weight on his stomach, the boy began to laugh. It was a soft chuckle at first, one that quickly escalated into a choking, hysterical gasp for air. "You…you think it's s-so si-simple," he wheezed, straining for each and every word as spots began to dance before his eyes. "But if you…cut off the h-hair, the head d-do-doesn't…die…"

His voice broke as the Arcanine set a paw on his throat.

"You c-aah-can't…!" he rasped, eyes bulging with the effort. "You caa-n't…destroy…us! N-not when…th-the-ere'll be…others…other Poké…mon trainers…who…will…!"

Silently, the Arcanine extended his nails. The whites of the youth's eyes gleamed in his battered, soot-stained face.

"Kaijin, you idiot!" screeched the voice of the Arcanine's human comrade. "Behind you!"

The Arcanine jerked his head about, only to meet with a pair of small black eyes and sparking red cheeks.

_"You really are an idiot," _the Pikachu hissed, eyes narrowing.

The wall blew apart with a blast of streaking electricity and spiraling flame.

In the air above, the Charizard heard the enormous explosion. Not daring to look back, it tightened its grip on the basket and flew on. Wind buffeted the tired Pokémon as it struggled for altitude. The basket hanging from its jaws started to sway precariously, startling its tiny occupant out of slumber. Ignoring the infant's cries, the Charizard soared doggedly on. Its tail flame grew weaker with each labored flap of its wings, and its vision more and more blurry.

It was too late when the Charizard finally noticed the tilting of the basket. The infant screamed as its blankets spilled out, flapping through the air like limp, graceless birds. Jerking back to attention, the Pokémon hastily attempted to straighten its load. It was too slow, too clumsy.

A metallic clink sounded as the Rainbow Wing clattered forward, feathers fluttering out behind it. It ricocheted off the rim and plummeted into the darkness below.

Panicking, the Charizard fell into a headlong dive. Its claws groped wildly about as the Pokémon zipped first one way, then another, across the night sky. With every frenzied lunge, the baby's screams grew louder.

At last, wholly exhausted and fearful the infant's cries might attract pursuers, the Charizard wearily climbed back to its original altitude. The ball of fire at the tip of its tail had dwindled to little more than a lone ember. Summoning the last of its strength, the Charizard hugged the basket to its chest and surged forward through the night sky. Eventually, the baby's sobs grew hoarse and quieted.

Only minutes later, the Charizard noticed the infant had fallen completely silent. Glancing down, the bemused Pokémon saw the baby sitting upright in the basket. The child's eyes were fixated wonderingly on the object caught in its tiny fist.

It was the feather that had been hidden under the blankets. The Charizard was surprised, and relieved, that the feather had not fallen out along with the Rainbow Wing. It had that much to be thankful for.

As the Charizard's wings beat across a starless sky, the child clutched the feather and watched it glitter in a light that only it could imagine.


	2. Coming of Age

Chapter One

**Coming of Age  
**

* * *

_A long, long time later..._

At night, Verdant Forest was usually a tranquil place. The peaceful silence was occasionally broken by the chirp of a cricket or snarl of a midnight predator, but rarely much more. Tonight, however, excited shouts and ringing laughter rose up from one of the sheltered forest glades. Firelight danced on the tree trunks as a sprightly Cyndaquil, its back a blazing cauldron of flame, pranced about the clearing's center. More small fires, flickering atop tall piles of sticks, illuminated the area from all sides.

"Cynda! Cynda!" the Cyndaquil chimed, kicking up its black paws. Furrowing its forehead in concentration, it took a running leap and hurtled itself into the air. With a graceful flip, it cleared a broad stump and landed, paws upraised, before a cheering audience.

All around the triumphant Cyndaquil, a circle of human and Pokémon children laughed and clapped their hands or paws together in delight. "Again, do it again!" some cried out. Encouraged, the Cyndaquil launched into a flurry of backflips, somersaults, and cartwheels. As it attempted an especially ambitious flip over a tree branch, a chorus of awed "oohs!" issued up from the assembled children.

The young humans who lived in the forest had always loved parties like these, as did the many Pokémon that inhabited the woods. Though some of the wilder creatures had originally been wary of humans, most feelings of mistrust had evaporated over time. Now, the small group of forest children mingled with the forest animals so freely it was sometimes impossible to tell human from Pokémon.

Smiling benevolently at her youthful charges, a withered white-haired woman sat on a fallen log, slightly apart from the rest of the gathering. At her side roosted an equally elderly Pidgeot, its head crest of feathers streaked through with grey.

Also away from the others, a stout scowling girl was hoisting a heavy basket of berries into the air. One of the other forest children, a grubby-fingered boy, darted forward and snatched up a fistful of berries for himself.

"Ikimo!" screeched the girl, yanking the basket away. Half its contents went tumbling onto the ground as she did. "Now look what you've made me do!"

Shrugging, the boy knelt and scooped up handfuls of the ripe fruit. "It's only a couple of berries, Alouelle," he countered, stuffing the fruit into his mouth and crunching contently. Dark lines of juice oozed out from the corners of his mouth, trickling all the way down to his chin.

Grumbling, Alouelle shoved him to the side and gathered up the rest of the berries alone. "Help me, will you?" she told Ikimo, jerking her head towards the pile of baskets behind her. "I want to get the rest of the food out before the ceremony starts."

"Which won't be for a while," the boy retorted. "The ceremony can't start without the guest of honor. And where's tonight's guest of honor? Bet you she forgot! She's always like that!"

Alouelle's round face blanched. "She can't have forgotten!" she protested sharply. Quickly, she scanned the faces that filled the clearing. The joyous yells and applause of the other children were still going strong. No one, it seemed, had noticed the absence of the party's intended focus.

"She _can't _have forgotten!" Alouelle said again, shaking the basket for emphasis. "It's her coming of age celebration, the day she turns ten! How could anyone forget _that_!"

"You know Lynn. Always drifting around, never saying anything to anybody. Quiet as a Gastly. Creepy as one, too. I'm surprised we even remembered to throw a coming of age party for _her_." Ikimo laughed and grabbed a second handful of berries from Alouelle's basket. Angrily, she slapped his juice-covered fingers to the side.

"Don't you dare touch those berries!" she snapped as she set the basket down. "I'm going to get Lynn. Finish setting up, will you?"

With that, Alouelle dashed out of the clearing, her straw-colored braids flapping out behind her. As soon as she had disappeared between the trees, Ikimo reached forward and crammed some more berries into his mouth. Savoring the sweet juice, then wiping his hands on his tattered, already well-stained sweatshirt, he wandered off to join the festivities.

* * *

Far away from the rambunctious party, a hammock knit from strong vines and wiry grasses swayed between the limbs of a weathered oak. Its occupant, a lone girl, leaned back into the net's sturdy niche, closing her eyes as the hammock rocked soothingly back and forth.

Tucking her arms beneath her head, Lynnet, or Lynn to all of the forest children, breathed in the cool night air. She inhaled and exhaled several times more, until the rhythm of her breathing matched the rocking of the hammock. Then, she stilled her breath completely, closed her eyes, and listened to the sounds around her.

It was a game Lynn liked to play with herself, finding out how much more she could hear if she made absolutely no noise. The slight creak of the branches as the hammock swung reached her ears first, followed by the whisper of a breeze rushing over her face.

As Lynn's concentration intensified, a flood of other noises fell upon her in quick succession. The scuttle of a small animal sounded in some distant bushes. The shuddering of some tree leaves swept forth on a passing wind. And the muffled beating of her own heart thudded steadily through the darkness. For the slightest fraction of a moment, Lynn thought she could even hear the ancient trees swelling out against their bark and the plants below stretching towards the sky.

Then her mouth burst open, gasping for air, and the spell was broken.

Breathing hard, Lynn sat up in the middle of her hammock. Had the wind suddenly grown colder, or was it just her imagination? She tugged restlessly at the too-short sleeves of her wrinkled shirt. As usual, it was totally ineffective. Like most of the forest children, Lynn had worn her sole set of clothes until they had become so patched and frayed that they offered little protection against the cold. But the pant legs that stopped several inches above the ankle and the numerous tears in her sleeves did little to bother her. As for appearances, it had been a long time since Lynn had even cared enough to comb out the tangles of coarse dark hair hanging below her ears.

This dark hair fell over Lynn's face now, tickling her check as she pulled out a small haversack from by her side. Placing her fingers over the sturdy material, Lynn deposited the sack carefully in her lap. With a quick twist and pull, the tight knots came undone. Several leaf-wrapped packets of dried berries and nuts rested at the very top, with a standard assortment of bundled herbs and tools beneath them. Lynn dug her hand past these layers, right to the padded bottom of the pack. Gingerly, her fingers brushed against a smooth, needle-thin surface.

Sitting back, Lynn gave a satisfied sigh of relief. She worried, more often than not, about losing her most secret treasure. Sometimes, on nights like these when the anxiety grew too strong, she couldn't help but check she still had it with her. But whenever Lynn reached into the bottom of her sack, it was always there. She'd feel silly then, though this silliness would soon be overcome by a soothing wave of reassurance. Lynn had always liked to be completely sure of things. As sure as one could possibly become, at any rate.

Once more, Lynn reached into the pack and, this time, carefully extracted the precious item. Holding tightly onto the thin shaft, she turned it first one way, then the other.

The object was difficult to make out at first, but its surface soon caught several stray shafts of moonlight and reflected them in a gleaming wave. In broad daylight, this wave would be beautifully iridescent, a scintillating swirl of every possible color Lynn had ever cared to imagine. And the object's actual shape, that of a glossy elongated feather, would be clear as well.

At least, Lynn fancied the object to be a feather. She'd seen the feathers shed by the local Pidgey during molting season: scraggly limp things that looked nothing like the exquisite shaft of rainbow she held in her hand. But even when she was little, Lynn had never thought to seek a second opinion. Apart from Lynn herself, no one had ever seen her special feather at all.

Of course, there wasn't really much purpose in the feather itself, besides…well, just being able to own such a pretty thing. Though Lynn often wondered what kind of creature the feather could have come from. Nothing she'd seen in Verdant Forest could ever match up with it, and she'd decided long ago that the feather must have come from some faraway land…like the places old Mother Woodwort liked to talk about in her stories. Places with wonderfully strange names like Sapheron, Sinn-bar, or Inda-go Pla-toe.

Then again, Mother Woodwort's stories usually weren't true. Mother Woodwort herself had attested to this fact numerous times. Yet many of the forest children still gathered eagerly around whenever she started a tale about her favorite subject of all: Pokémon Trainers, a strange race of humans that had disappeared long ago.

"Once upon a time," Mother Woodwort would begin in her creaky old voice, "There was a renowned Pokémon Trainer king who had four young heirs. One day, the king took them aside and said, 'My heirs, I will give each of you a stalwart Pokémon companion, for you must now prove yourselves to be good and noble Pokémon Trainers and venture into the world.' "

"To the first heir, the king gave Squirtle, a Pokémon with mastery over the forces of water. To the second, the king gave Bulbasaur, a Pokémon skilled with the power of grass, and to the third, Charmander, a Pokémon proficient in the ways of fire. But the fourth heir, alas! There was no Pokémon left for him!"

"What happened to the fourth heir?" the children would cry, even though most of them already knew the story by heart. "What happened to him?"

Mother Woodwort would pause dramatically before going on. " 'Where is my Pokémon?' the fourth heir cried to the king."

"Where? Where?" the forest children would chime back.

"And the king felt sympathy for the fourth heir, who was brave and strong and had a heart of gold. So the king traveled to the dank dark dungeons of his palace and searched. He searched and searched until he came upon one last Pokémon, one that had been locked away for many years. The king took this Pokémon to the fourth heir and said, 'I have only one Pokémon left to give you. But there is a problem with this last one.' "

"The fourth heir, however, was not afraid. Boldly, he stepped forward and accepted the final Pokémon, a Pikachu. And the Pikachu, in its rage, called upon the forces of the storm and released a horrible torrent of lightning upon the land. But the fourth heir stayed strong. Battered and bruised, he and the surly Pikachu left on their journey. For now that the heir had come of age, he was expected to go out into the world and…"

_Come of age? Come of age?_

_Oh no…_

"Lynn! What're you doing up there? I _can't _believe you forgot about tonight! How could you!"

Snapping guiltily out of her daydreamer's trance, Lynn nearly fell out of her hammock. Glancing down, she could see fair-haired, round-cheeked Alouelle, arms crossed and one foot tapping impatiently. "Everybody's been waiting for you so the ceremony can start!" Alouelle shouted up at her. "So hurry up! We've got to get back right away!"

Stuffing the feather back into her pack and slinging the entire thing over one shoulder, Lynn climbed out of her hammock and scrambled after Alouelle's already bounding form.


	3. Rites of Passage

Chapter Two

**Rites of Passage  
**

* * *

By the time the two girls had reached the clearing, the formerly boisterous grove had become surprisingly silent, save for a single speaker. Peering through a gap in the bushes, Lynn saw ancient Mother Woodwort seated on a log at the far end of the glade, her constant Pidgeot companion, Cloudguider, perched serenely at her side.

As Lynn could have guessed, the old woman was in the middle of another one of her popular yarns. Tonight, she seemed to be telling the tale of the fourth Pokémon Trainer heir and the Pikachu he had befriended, the very story Lynn had been reciting to herself back in the tree. This coincidence wasn't too surprising; the legend of the fourth heir was _the _classic coming-of-age story. Lynn had heard it so many times that she practically knew it by heart…though that somehow did not dull the tale's luster in the slightest.

"…as the pouring rain faded into a drizzle, and the black clouds lifted from the sky, the fourth heir opened his eyes and turned to the Pikachu, and the Pikachu opened its eyes and turned to the heir. And both boy and Pikachu smiled, for the storm was over and they had won. Above them, a rainbow spread across the now clear sky. And then, miracles upon miracles, the bird of the seven feathers came down from above the clouds. It flew right through the rainbow's arches and was bathed in many beautiful colors."

Alouelle started forward, but seeing Lynn hang back, decided to wait as well. Both girls lingered outside the clearing, not wanting to interrupt the elderly storyteller.

"The boy and the Pikachu saw the bird of the seven feathers," Mother Woodwort continued in a hushed voice. All around the circle of children and Pokémon surrounding her, attentive stares had fixed themselves upon the storyteller's weathered face, raptly soaking up her every word. Pausing to draw out the suspense, the old woman's cracked lips curved into a smile.

"It was then that the boy and the Pikachu knew they would be friends for as long as they lived," she went on at last. "And so they were, a human and a Pokémon, closest of friends until their dying day."

Cheers of approval rose from the audience as the story drew to a close. Mother Woodwort beamed benevolently as her young companions, human and Pokémon alike, eagerly demanded another tale. Each called out their own favorites; one Sentret leapt onto its striped tail with its strident cries ringing out above the rest.

"But wait!" Gesturing for everyone to quiet down, the old storyteller cleared her throat and waited patiently until the very last child was reseated. "Though the bird of the seven feathers no longer flies these skies," Mother Woodwort said in a dramatic whisper, "it is said that it will someday appear again to a destined soul, one who is pure of heart and has been chosen by the fates."

Lynn leaned forward, unconsciously mouthing the concluding words to herself.

"And that hero shall restore the balance of the world at long last, and there shall be harmony among all for the rest of time."

"She's done – let's go!" Alouelle hissed before the echo of Mother Woodwart's words had entirely faded. "You're late enough as it is!" Not bothering to wait for an answer, she grabbed Lynn by the arm and started pulling her into the clearing.

Lynn's first instinct was to resist, but, knowing Alouelle's stubborn nature all too well, she reluctantly let herself be dragged into view of the other children. Besides, mortifying as it was to be reprimanded yet again, Lynn was too lost in her own thoughts to register much embarrassment.

For some reason, this particular story of Mother Woodwort's had always struck a chord within her. Even now, ten years-old and supposedly above believing in such things (as Alouelle would've sternly scolded her), Lynn still remembered the legend of the fourth heir in vivid detail…though it was really the bird of the seven feathers, and not the heir himself, that most intrigued her. The mystical bird that had flown with rainbows and graced the pure of heart with its portentous presence had always reminded Lynn of her own rainbow feather.

Looking up at last, Mother Woodwort smiled at her. "Hello, Lynnet," she said in a warm voice. "We were waiting for you." Cloudguider, her Pidgeot companion, fluffed up its feathers and clucked disapprovingly.

Alouelle prodded Lynn in the arm amidst the muffled giggles of the other forest children. Face growing hot, Lynn had a fleeting urge to shrink away and skip her coming of age ceremony all together. But Mother's Woodwort's bony fingers encircled her wrist before she could act, pulling Lynn to the very center of the glade.

"Let's begin, shall we?" the old women said briskly, positioning Lynn in front of a small circle strangely barren of all undergrowth. "Now, Lynnet, all you have to do is answer the questions I ask with a simple 'yes' or 'no.' Is that clear?"

Lynn nodded, gulping, and felt her throat go very, very dry.

Planting her gnarled wooden cane onto the ground before her, Mother Woodwort began to speak in a clear, carefully enunciating voice. "This is the coming of age ceremony of Lynnet, a child of the Verdant Forest. Tonight, Lynnet has turned ten years-old."

"Um, y-yes," Lynn stuttered out nervously.

A ripple of giggles cut her off as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

"Not yet, dear," Mother Woodwort corrected gently. "You don't say anything until the next part."

More giggling. Dumbly, Lynn nodded, praying she'd keep herself from making any more mistakes.

Clearing her throat, Mother Woodwort resumed in a louder voice. "Are you Lynnet of the Verdant Forest?"

"Y-yes," Lynn said, swallowing hard.

Mother Woodwort kindly nodded her encouragement. "Now that you are ten, you have the choice to leave your home and journey into the outside world. Is this the choice you have made?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise to journey unfettered by fear? Untarnished by spite? Unyielding to irresolution?"

"Ye...yes."

Flashing a crooked-toothed, but benign smile at the nervous girl, the withered old woman slowly stepped forward. "Asphodel?" she called out, not turning around. "Please do the honors."

"Saauuurr!" intoned a booming voice in the distance. It was followed immediately by the grind of dry leaves under large, ponderous weights. Exclaiming in anticipation, several of the children quickly scampered back from the clearing's edges. From her position at its center, Lynn's dark brown eyes widened first in alarm, then unmasked wonderment.

All along the far boundary of the glade, plants and trees were bending to the sides of a newly-forming gap, the rustling of their leaves and creaking of their stems and trunks rapidly filling the awed silence. From the leafiest giant to the slenderest seedling, the entire wall of vegetation was pushed apart by some invisible hand, clearing a wide entrance into the previously isolated glade.

Beyond this dark gap, a pair of thick green vines emerged, writhing about like Ekans' tongues tasting the air. Branches groaned loudly, bowing even further towards the earth.

"Venusaauuurr," rumbled the voice again. The ground shook as an enormous head materialized from the shadows, followed by a lumbering pair of scaly blue feet. The delicate fronds atop the Pokémon's back trembled with each deliberate step, as did the elaborate flower resting between them. Once a vibrant magenta speckled with bright gold, the flower's colors had faded long ago into soft rose and pastel yellow, while the petals themselves had grown dry and crinkled over time. But the wilting blossom and limp leaves did little to detract from the Venusaur's unblinking scarlet eyes. Unlike the colors of the flower, these eyes had only sharpened with age.

Once Asphodel's gargantuan body had completely entered the clearing, pushing most of its occupants up against the opposite side, Mother Woodwort bent towards the ground. Standing beside her, Lynn caught a glimpse of something glittering between the old woman's thin wrinkled fingers. When Mother Woodwort had straightened, Lynn saw a ripe Gold Berry lying on the barren patch of dirt before her.

Slowly, the giant Venusaur took first one step, then another, towards the Berry. Its vine whips twisted forcefully about as it walked, as if struggling to wrench some unseen object from thin air. "Sauurr…" Asphodel growled as its whips thrashed and yanked, growing increasingly frenzied as the Venasaur came closer and closer to the center of the clearing.

Lynn's breath hitched in her throat as a small crack sounded. At her feet, the tough skin of the Gold Berry had split neatly down the middle. With a sharp snap, the fruit fell into two halves, pushed apart by a slender emerging sprout. Gradually, the metallic sheen of the Berry's shed shell dimmed. Simultaneously, a golden radiance began to pulse about the shoot's rapidly rising form.

Asphodel's vine whips had relaxed by this point. Instead of lashing wildly around, they were now pulling at the air in fluid, graceful motions. Lynn watched in rapt fascination as the shoot continued to grow and grow, becoming a strong sapling in a matter of seconds. Golden leaves unfurled atop said sapling's supple, burgeoning twigs. Before Lynn's eyes, those twigs extended into shining branches, while the young plant's base thickened into a smooth, sturdy trunk. Glancing down, Lynn could see the bulging form of roots spreading out underneath the soil, then rippling forcefully across the entire length of the forest floor.

Soon, the small tree had reached Lynn's height. Moments later, it had surpassed it. With every inch that the gilded branches stretched skyward, the tree's radiant form grew brighter and brighter, until everyone, including Lynn, was forced to shield their eyes.

A loud crunch sounded as the highest branches of the tree slammed into the forest canopy. Leaves rained down upon Lynn's motionless body, showering her hair and shoulders. Cringing, she squeezed her eyes shut tighter than ever. Only when the last leaf had fluttered down, landing with a soft rustle at her feet, did she finally venture a peek at her surroundings.

Inhaling sharply, Lynn found the dirt of the forest floor strewn with glittering leaves and twigs. At the clearing's center stood a majestic metallic trunk, its surface pulsating gently with some strange, glimmering internal energy. Each of the tree's branches was heavily adorned with leaves surrounding clusters of ripe Gold Berries.

From the edge of the clearing, Asphodel released a grunting sigh. Then, without a word, it turned and trudged back into the gap through which it had come. The previously restrained trees and plants snapped back into place with an audible whip, concealing the former opening completely.

For several moments, Lynn gazed wordlessly upward at the many luminous leaves, glittering as they shuddered in a passing breeze. The top of the Gold Berry tree had shoved a new hole into the canopy above, which was now letting in a shaft of moonlight to bathe the clearing in a soft glow.

Now clearing her throat to break the silence, Mother Woodwort hobbled over to the Berry tree's base. In perfect tandem, Cloudguider the Pidgeot spread its wings and launched itself into the air. Lynn's eyes followed the bird Pokémon as it shot upwards, coming to hover directly before the tree's lowest branches.

With a quick peck, Cloudguider broke off a cluster of Gold Berries, then, with a flash of its broad wings, swooped down and caught it before it fell too far. Holding the gleaming fruits gingerly in its beak, the Pidgeot returned to earth and dutifully presented them to Mother Woodwort. In turn, the old woman plucked each of the Berries from the sprig they clung to. One by one, she folded the golden fruits into a piece of cloth.

Each Berry flashed between her fingers as she set it in place. Lynn counted ten of them in total.

"Like that first Gold Berry," Mother Woodwort said softly, pressing the bundle of fruit into Lynn's hands, "your first step is to break out of your shell. Once that is accomplished, the bounties of success and happiness will follow with time. We give you our blessings, Lynnet of the Verdant Forest. May the spirit of the bird of the seven feathers, and your own strength of heart, forever guide you."

Clutching the Gold Berries tightly against her collarbone, Lynn hastily bowed her head first to the old woman, then to the gray-winged Pidgeot beside her.

She wasn't sure what to do next. As her prior nervousness rapidly resurfaced, all memory of previous coming-of-age ceremonies abruptly fled Lynn's mind. Could she sit down now? Or should she make a speech? Perhaps just say thank you?

There was an uneasy minute of silence as Lynn just stood there, body frozen in mid-motion, heart pounding in confused anxiety.

Then came the snickers, soft and stifled at first, but quickly growing in force. Seized by cold terror, Lynn's eyes darted over the other children's faces. Some remained politely solemn, but many more were twisted in open mirth. Mortified, Lynn averted her gaze, but not before catching sight of one girl whispering into the ear of another.

Mother Woodwort came forward and tried to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Stomach wrenching, Lynn slipped away before the old storyteller could make matters even worse.

Acutely aware of the other children's stares, she hurriedly muttered some excuse about being tired and walked away with her eyes fixed intently on the ground. It was not until all the others were safely out of range that she began to run.

What Lynn wanted wasn't a wild party, where everybody else was having too much fun to pay any attention to her. It was to be back in her snug hammock, counting Mareep, listening to the night wrap itself soothingly around her…

As soon as the sound of Lynn's footsteps faded away, the party originally thrown in her honor started up again in full force.


	4. Fate's Messenger

Chapter Three

**Fate's Messenger  
**

* * *

Rays of sunlight were already trickling through the leafy canopy by the time Lynn awoke. She stayed still for another minute or two, face upturned, watching the flickering patterns of light made by the leaves above fluttering in the wind. As she did, the lilting song of a Togetic wove through the woods, its melodic strains drifting over to where Lynn lay.

"To-geeiii! To-geeiiiii!" the wild Pokémon trilled. To Lynn, its cries sounded an awful lot like "Today! Todaaay!"

Today was the day, all right. A yawn dissolving her sudden smile, Lynn slid from her hammock, swaying a bit groggily as she planted her feet on the ground. She felt little grief or apprehension about departing from her childhood home. True, she had no idea where she was going to go after she left Verdant Forest. But Lynn was now ten years-old. According to the tradition of the forest children, she was now considered on her own and encouraged, if she so chose, to seek her fortune in the outside world.

That was exactly what Lynn wanted most. She'd been waiting and waiting for her chance to travel the world alone, far before she could remember having any other dreams. Where the journey led made little difference. Lynn was fairly sure she'd manage just fine, as long as she didn't have to struggle out a pained, awkward existence among other people. Traveling by herself, she'd have no companions save for the wind and clouds, who wouldn't snap at what she might say, or snicker if she didn't say anything at all. Being alone was always what Lynn had liked best.

As she slung her pack over her shoulder, however, she paused. Despite her long-held yearning to leave it all behind, Lynn definitely knew things she'd miss about Verdant Forest, the old climbing trees, the familiar noises at night, Alouelle's sharp but affectionate nagging, and Mother Woodwort's wonderful stories among them. Lynn wouldn't have terribly minded sticking around and saying goodbye to Mother Woodwort and Alouelle, at least. But what good would come out of that?_ Better to start out while the day's still new, _Lynn assured herself. She'd forget all about home once she was underneath the open sky.

"Lynn, hey! Wait up! _Wait!_"

Turning, Lynn saw a stout form struggling through the undergrowth, flaxen braids swinging out with every loping leap. It was Alouelle, hair messily bound and face flushed with exertion.

"Hey," Alouelle panted, bending nearly double. Lynn waited quietly as the younger girl gulped for air. Straightening at last, Alouelle looked Lynn straight in the eye and positioned her hands indignantly on her hips. "Were you _really _just going to leave without telling anyone?" she demanded, furiously flipping back her straw-colored hair.

Before Lynn could stutter out an answer, Alouelle was pulling a frayed cloth ribbon from one of her braids. "Well, before you go," Alouelle said as she shook out her long hair, "take this, alright?"

Lynn glanced down at the other girl's outstretched palm and at the pale blue ribbon dangling from it. Then, she looked hesitantly up at Alouelle's round face, one side framed by wavy pale tresses, the other sporting her usual thick braid.

"Just take it," Alouelle growled, shoving the ribbon at Lynn. "Your hair's even worse than mine, and you'll need something to keep it out of the way when you're walking."

Shyly, Lynn accepted the ribbon. Then, as Alouelle watched on impatiently, she pulled back her coarse dark hair and tied it in place with fumbling fingers. "Th-thanks, Alouelle," Lynn said once she finished, tentatively shaking her head to make sure the ribbon was secure.

"Don't mention it. Now, you'd better hurry up and go before it gets too late!"

Lynn watched as Alouelle hurried back the way she'd come, disappearing between a cluster of tree trunks. "Bye, Alouelle," Lynn whispered under her breath. And she started walking.

* * *

Ancient, gnarled monsters of trees dominated most of the Verdant Forest. To a distant observer, these trees might have looked like giant skeletal toothpicks, shooting so far up that they gave barely a thought to growing out. But upon closer examination, it would become staggeringly apparent that ten stretching and straining Dragonair, linked mouth to tail, could not completely encircle the enormous trunks. Even bulkier than said trunks were the lush green treetops far, far above, shrouded in wispy white clouds.

Little sunlight filtered past the leafy masses and branching limbs; only through the rarest of gaps did shafts of light ever find their way to the forest floor. It was underneath one of these gaps that Lynn found herself that afternoon, sitting cross-legged on smooth patch of dirt and unpacking the day's lunch. She was just finishing off a small cake of ground Apricorn meal when she realized she was not alone.

Something was beating out a soft "pat-pat-pat" against the ground. Looking up from her crumbs, Lynn saw a small furry Pokémon sitting no more than a few feet away, its bushy brown tail slapping the ground with every eager wag.

With long cocked ears and white tufts of fur encircling its neck, the Pokémon was definitely an Eevee. Lynn had seen one of these rather scarce forest Pokémon only once before, and the curiosity of this one intrigued her.

"Hello," she said softly, taking out another cake. "Are you hungry?"

The Eevee hesitantly lifted one paw, as if to take a step towards her. It _did _look rather thin, with all that fur hanging so loosely on its small frame.

"I've got other food, too," Lynn added quickly as she rummaged through her pack. The Eevee did not react as she waved first a dried green fruit, then a handful of peeled nuts in front of it. Trying her best to recall what an Eevee might normally eat, Lynn reached back into her haversack. This time, her fingers closed around a small cloth package.

She'd nearly forgotten about the ceremony last night, not to mention the gift she had received from Asphodel and Mother Woodwort. Opening the bundle, Lynn carefully tipped out several Gold Berries. Three of the precious fruits glinted in her open palm, their metallic skins reflecting the sunlight in three blinding auras.

"Ah…would you like some of these?"

Slowly, the Pokémon trotted forward, black nose twitching. Then, indecision abandoned, it dashed into the circle of sunlight with its luxuriant tail bobbing behind it.

Lynn smiled reassuringly and held the Gold Berries closer.

The Eevee skidded to a stop in front of her and, bowing its head, delicately took all three of the Berries. To Lynn's amusement, it did not swallow them. Instead, the Eevee simply stored them in its mouth, causing its cheeks to puff out with fruit.

"Saving them for later?" Lynn asked, even though she knew the Pokémon couldn't answer. "Or are you taking them to a friend?"

Cheeks still bulging, the Eevee looked innocently up into Lynn's gaze.

_What?_

Lynn's cry caught in her throat, leaving her to gape soundlessly at the Pokémon's furry face. She had no idea how she could have ever missed something so glaringly obvious.

The Eevee's gaze was as strikingly golden as the Gold Berries it had just taken. Even now, they were glinting with the same metallic sheen as the Berries' tough shells, pulsing with the same gentle aura as the bark of a Gold Berry tree.

The golden eyes blinked, and before Lynn could react, the Eevee had snatched the entire package of Berries from her hand. With a swish of its tail, it was tumbling back out of the sunlight, racing away from Lynn at top speed.

"Wait!" Lynn shouted, bolting up. "You can't have all of those!"

The Eevee ran faster. Hiking her pack over a shoulder, Lynn dashed after it. Staggering through a clump of bushes and leaping over a maze of naked roots, she caught sight of the golden-eyed Eevee darting between two tree trunks. As she reached the trees and eased through, however, the ground dropped out abruptly from under her right foot.

Yelping in surprise, Lynn half-fell, half-skid down the unexpected slope. Her feet twisted under her body as she hit bottom in a cloud of dust. She gasped as her head spun for one nauseous moment, disoriented by both the sudden fall and ensuring debris. As her mind slid back into focus, she became sharply aware of her bare elbows, scraped raw from the rough pebbles and stinging with pain. Grimacing, Lynn scrambled back onto her feet, gingerly rubbing her arms and peering around.

She had fallen into a deep ditch, one that had been almost entirely concealed by the heavy overgrowth above. The Eevee was nowhere in sight, and her ankle was beginning to throb slightly.

Cautiously, Lynn made her way forward, surprised at the spongy feel of the ground beneath her toes. Turning her gaze downward, she saw that the soil was carpeted not in grass, but a fine layer of emerald moss._ Is there water nearby? _she mused. It wouldn't be a bad idea to refill her canteen before leaving. Now if she could only find the stream…but then, she could worry about that later.

Listening intently for the soft footfalls of the golden-eyed Eevee, Lynn started across the mossy blanket. Ahead, she spotted an opening carved into one of the steep earthen walls surrounding the ditch. Squinting, Lynn could just glimpse a pinprick of light shining through from the other side.

Seeing as it had to be the only way out, she stepped into the cavernous passage. The heels of her feet clapped against the ground, the sound of each footstep amplified several times over in the dark cave. It was eerie at first, and Lynn did her best to rush straight ahead. A minute later, she was bursting into blinding sunlight, stumbling across the grass at the other end.

As if it had been waiting there all along, the Eevee crouched less than a yard away from the cavern's mouth. Its liquid-bright eyes locked onto Lynn's own. Slowly, and ever so deliberately, the Eevee set down the cloth bundle it had stolen. Then, as if it hadn't a care in the world, it trotted nonchalantly off, tail waving behind it like a jaunty flag.

Heaving a sigh, Lynn knelt by the bundle, taking it in her hands and unwrapping it carefully. A pile of Gold Berries tumbled into her palms. Counting them once, then once again, Lynn was relieved to find all seven remaining Berries still there. Resolving not to let something like that happen again, she shakily rose to her feet.

"Sorry about that."

Head jerking up, Lynn almost dropped her Gold Berries. Sitting cross-legged on a rock, a couple yards in the distance, was a boy only slighter older than Lynn herself. He had positioned himself strategically underneath a gap in the canopy, one of the few places where the streams of light from above came in virtually unrestricted.

Judging by his incredibly pallid complexion, however, Lynn would have guessed that this boy rarely sat out in the sun, preferring instead to skulk about the darker, deeper portions of the forest. But then, his skin wasn't the only thing that was too pale about him. Perhaps it was just an aftereffect of being illuminated in a light too blinding, but everything, from the boy's longish brown hair to his wrinkled old jacket, had an oddly washed-out appearance, as if Lynn was merely viewing his reflection in a too-shallow pool.

"Hey," the boy called out when Lynn didn't respond. "Sorry my friend here took off with your stuff like that. Eon gets funny like that sometimes. Don't you, Eon?"

From behind the boy's back, the Eevee poked out its furry head, golden eyes glittering unreadably.

"Oh, um…it's okay, I-I…." Feeling the eyes of both the boy and Eevee boring into her, Lynn found herself at a loss for further words.

The boy gave a short, glib laugh at this. "Hear that, Eon?" he asked the golden-eyed Eevee with feigned incredulity. "She's decided to let you off easy this time. The least you could do is thank the poor little girl."

The Eevee remained immobile and, judging by its unblinking gaze, apparently unruffled.

"Call me Wreander," the boy said to Lynn, sticking out a gloved hand. To Lynn's unease, the tips of his glove were spiked with long silver claws. Friendly as Wreander's grin looked, Lynn kept her hand firmly at her side. She also kept a fair distance away from the boy's rock.

"Polite, aren't you?" Wreander laughed, taking the point and retracting his hand. "I don't bite, you know. Not usually. Though sometimes I foam at the mouth."

He sighed with exaggerated heaviness when Lynn still hesitated to answer. "Not only polite, but a great conversationalist as well," he commented, mouth curving into what looked unfortunately like a smirk. "Well, Lynnet of the Verdant Forest, I guess you'll be wanting some compensation for those three Berries Eon ate."

He gave the Eevee a teasing nudge, and the Pokémon licked its lips in recollection of its tasty meal.

"H-how…how do you know who I am?" Lynn asked Wreander uneasily.

"Oh, I have my ways. Seriously? Look." He gestured to the cloth-swathed Berries in Lynn's hand. "It says your name right on there. The package Eon swiped."

Squinting anxiously, Lynn brought the cloth to her face and scrutinized it. There were some strange black strains on the cloth, but she'd assumed they'd been inked there by Mother Woodwort for decoration.

Wreander's eyes narrowed as Lynn nervously examined the alien marks. "You can't read, can you?" he asked her. "Or write, then."

"Wh-what?"

"Oh, nothing." Sighing, Wreander ran a hand through his scruffy light brown hair. "It'll probably come back to haunt you later, but that's not my problem. The thing is, Lynn, _you _gave Eon three of your Gold Berries. Now, _we _owe you three choices."

Lynn shook her head and hurriedly started to back up. Before she could get very far, however, Wreander spoke again. His voice was filled with mirth. "It's been a while, you know, since a ten year-old starting out a journey has gotten three choices. Consider it an honor, Lynnet of Verdant Forest. A very big honor."

"Ch-choices?" Lynn whispered finally, curiosity carrying the words out from between her trembling lips.

Wreander's dark eyes blinked in surprise, then shone with contained laughter. "First, the legalities," he informed her. "You only get one choice. You choose something, then realize you don't like it, too bad. I could care less, so you'd better have enough caution for two. Good so far?"

Though far from comprehending Wreander's true purpose, Lynn nodded to urge him on.

"First choice. You can live your entire existence in peaceful monotony. You'll never do anything that can be considered great, or be remembered by anyone after you've left this world. But you'll also be guaranteed a long secure life and painless death of natural causes."

"What? But you c-can't…" Lynn started to argue. Her voice wavered as Wreander continued, unperturbed by her outburst.

"Second choice. You can become a blazing star. Your life will be one short, dazzling burst of glory. People will remember you as a hero for generations to come. They'll also remember how tragically you died, your young life snuffed out before you ever had a chance to grow up."

His mouth twitched amusedly at Lynn's widening eyes. "Beginning to get the gist of things now?"

Lynn shook her head dizzily, dark ponytail swishing from side to side. "B-but there's no way for you t-to…to change my life like that," she remonstrated in a faint voice. "Isn't that…impossible?"

Wreander snapped his fingers nonchalantly. Instantly, a translucent ring of pale blue fire sprang up around him. Wisps of sapphire light flickered over the boy's bare feet and forearms, wrapping his body in a shifting ghostly fog. Lynn could hear Eon yipping as Wreander, engulfed by that shimmering shroud, rose slowly into the air.

The boy began to float towards her, his skin no longer white, but tinted an eerie bloodless blue. With a strangled gasp, Lynn took a hurried step back and tripped over a rock in the dirt. Feet twisting underneath her body, she lurched onto the ground with a heavy thud.

"I, for one," Wreander said in a wry voice, dark eyes glimmering in his wraithlike face, "don't usually start off so cynically. I prefer to believe that things _are _possible, until proven impossible. Still, if you want to challenge me, go right ahead and choose…" His lips curled into what was, this time, an unmistakably malevolent smirk.

Hands shaking as she struggled to sit up, Lynn spoke softly, straining vainly to stifle the trembling in her voice. "B-but then…then what's the third choice?" she asked Wreander slowly, quietly. As rationally as she could possibly manage to sound, which by this point wasn't very much at all. "Didn't you…y-you said there were three of them."

"Oh, so she can count!" The boy closed his eyes for a brief moment, during which Lynn hastily bolted onto her feet. "The third choice, Lynnet of Verdant Forest?" Wreander said, eyes snapping back open as soon as Lynn moved. "You walk away from here of your own volition. Leaving without picking either of the other two choices."

Uneasy silence hung between the two of them. Lynn bit her lip and lowered her eyes, while Wreander watched her brow furrow with unconcealed amusement. "Made up your mind yet?" he prodded, crossing his arms across the front of his faded jacket. "I don't have all century, you know. Not this time." With another snap of the fingers, he was lowering his body onto the ground to face Lynn directly.

Lynn, eyes fixed downward, saw only bare feet sinking into the moss as the boy walked forward. They had become pearly pale once more, a marked contrast to the vibrant, yielding emerald below. "I-I guess what I don't understand," she said at last, still staring closely at the ground, "is why you're giving these choices to me. I just gave some Berries to that Eevee. That…it wasn't very special or important. W-was it?"

"Do you think it was, Lynn?" Wreander challenged. "Whatever you think, now _that's_ what makes the difference. You understand?"

Lynn flinched as a flare of intense blue light rippled across the ground right before her eyes. When the spots cleared from her vision, Wreander's pale face was inches from her own. "When people are talking to you," he informed Lynn sarcastically, "you're supposed to look them in the face."

From its position on the boy's glowing blue shoulder, the golden-eyed Eevee was staring pointedly at her.

Lynn's hand tightened around the Gold Berries she was still clutching, as if seeking reassurance from the glowing forms underneath the cloth. "I guess I've chosen, then," she mumbled.

"Say that again, louder this time."

Taking a deep breath, Lynn scrunched up her eyes and summoned her final reserves of courage. "_I-I've chosen!_" she managed to screech out.

And the boy could object, she was racing across the moss and towards the tunnel she'd come from, heart palpitating furiously all the while. She half-expected Wreander to stop her, to grab her by the arm or force her to freeze with his strange powers. But as Lynn's feet pounded down the dark passage, all she heard was the sound of his laughter echoing in the clearing behind her.

"Think you'll beat out both of the other two choices, Lynnet of the Verdant Forest?" Wreander jeered after her. "Maybe you'll live a long, prosperous life, and become a legend while you're at it. Then again, you might die young and be forgotten as well. Do you think so, Lynn? Remember, it's what you think that matters in the end!"

Lynn only ran faster. As she burst out of the earthen tunnel to meet the blinding sunlight, the world itself rushed up to meet her. Lynn felt herself lurching forward, feet kicking at the air, hands grasping for something, anything to keep herself from falling. The packet of Gold Berries was slipping out from between her fingers; brilliant metallic sparkles were bursting before her eyes…

The last things Lynn saw were the tendrils of a vaporous blue mist, wrapping themselves over her terrified face. Wreander's mocking words sounded above her, bearing rapidly down as she struggled not to scream, then not to suffocate.

_Beginning to get the gist of things now? Remember, it's what you think that matters in the end!_

* * *

Light was pressing on Lynn's eyelids when she came to at last. Putting a hand to her painfully pounding forehead and struggling into a sitting position, she became aware of hard dirt below pressing into her back. Looking up, she could see a blue patch of sky, shining through a wide gap in the tree branches.

This was the same spot where Lynn had eaten her lunch, before she'd seen the Eevee and gone running off after it. With an unpleasant start, Lynn recalled Wreander's smirking face and unearthly powers. The strange boy and Eevee, and the equally cryptic choices they'd offered her, made as little sense now as ever. Had they been no more than figures from a bad dream, twisted figments of her own tired mind?

The cloth holding the Gold Berries, Lynn noticed suddenly, was resting on the ground beside her. Biting her lip, she took it in her hands and unwrapped it.

Seven sparkling Berries lay heaped there. Lynn anxiously counted them once again just to be completely, utterly sure. A sickening chill creeping up her skin, she folded the cloth back up and tucked the whole thing into her pack with trembling fingers.

Shivering, she got to her feet, her cramped legs groaning as she did. After shaking them to relieve the pins-and-needles sensation, Lynn swiftly set off again. She was determined to put as much distance between herself and this part of the forest as possible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a wisp of silvery blue haze materializing from the sunlight. Heart jolting in trepidation, Lynn spun about and met face-to-face with…

Absolutely nothing.

Scolding herself for being so paranoid, she turned away and, determined not to let her imagination run out of control, started walking.

Still, despite her efforts to erase it, Wreander's laugh still echoed ever-so-faintly in her mind.


	5. Through Sun and Storm

Chapter Four

**Through Sun and Storm  
**

* * *

Ironically enough, the day had begun auspiciously. Lynn had spent the night before dozing on the outskirts of Verdant Forest, having set up her hammock between two sturdy oaks just as dusk fell. After a quick drink of water the next morning, she'd packed up her things and set off once more. After an hour or so of walking, she glimpsed a stretch of meadow from between some craggy tree trunks. Easing out from behind a gnarled prickly bush, the weary ten year-old could barely keep a grin from spreading across her face. Despite her scrapes and sore feet, she'd made it out of the forest at last!

The trip through the field was a welcome change for Lynn, who'd so far spent most of her journey picking her way through tangled undergrowth. Now, she sprang lightheartedly through the tall grass, pack bouncing against one shoulder. A breeze tickled her cheek and ruffled at her hair as she bounded happily on. True, she didn't really have a direction in which to go, or a destination at which to be. But Lynn ran anyway, exuberant with the sheer joy of just that: running.

Soon enough, she spotted a strip of brown dirt in the distance. Slowing to a walk, Lynn approached it with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. As she neared the bare sweep of soil, however, she realized that the part she'd noticed before was only a fraction of the thing's entire length. The stretch of naked land wound like a ribbon through the field for what must've been miles and miles, much farther than her eye could see.

Lynn frowned at the sight, wondering if some plague or ravenous plant-eating Pokémon had stripped away all the vegetation. But one of Mother Woodwort's stories soon rang a bell in her mind. Outside Verdant Forest, Mother Woodwort had said, human hands had cleared long tracts of land long ago. These tracts were called "roads" and had been created to make traveling easier.

"In the days of the Pokémon Trainers," Mother Woodwort's voice came back to Lynn now, "people used roads to get to important places called cities or gyms. If a Pokémon Trainer ever got lost, all they had to do was follow a road."

Lynn wasn't exactly lost, but she was curious to see if there was any truth in Mother Woodwort's stories. Not to mention that strange words like "cities" and "gyms" intrigued her. Telling herself that she had nothing to lose, she trotted readily down the dirt path.

For the first few hours, the going was relatively easy. The flat, uncluttered road presented little difficulty to a spry young traveler. And though Lynn disliked the clouds of dust that swirled up from its cracked surface and tickled her eyes and nose, she had to admit it was easier on her feet than the hidden thorns and dried twigs of the meadowland.

But as several hours in the indolently humid air crept by, she found herself slowing to a weary trudge. The sun had climbed high overhead by now, to where it beat mercilessly down on her dark hair. The farther she walked, the more her head seemed to throb in the heat. Lynn stopped several times to wipe her face and take a sip of water from her canteen. Within minutes, however, the sweat would be running down her face as freely as ever, and her desiccated throat would force her to fumble for another drink.

Dragging to a halt for the umpteenth time, Lynn found herself longing for the shade of the trees in Verdant Forest once more. Shade would definitely be good. _Anything _that could clear away the scorching heat and muggy air would be good!

That wish was fulfilled before the afternoon was half-spent.

With her head hanging down, jerking carelessly with each labored step, it took Lynn a while to notice how dark the sky had grown…as well as the ominous mass of clouds that had gathered over the sun, concealing it from view.

A rumble in the distance made Lynn look up at last. By this point, the afternoon sky was swathed in threatening gray layers of storm clouds. The humid heat had vanished, leaving only crisp cold air and a meandering breeze to sweep across her face. Her previous complaints about the heat completely forgotten, Lynn hugged her bare arms to her body and shivered. The wind seemed to have frozen all her sticky sweat into clinging ice. Peering nervously into the sky, she forced her strides to lengthen.

A fork of lightning cleaved the heavens in two, followed by a resounding crash of thunder. Lynn ran faster as the first drops of rain began to fall, hitting her skin and splattering down in chilly runnels. As a second bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, she felt herself slipping into a rapidly growing puddle. Yelping, her arms wind-milling wildly about, the terrified girl fought to keep herself upright…

Thunder tore through the air again, so close that the ground itself seemed to quiver.

Gasping, Lynn went down with water splashing in all directions. The rain came in torrents now, turning the dry dust of the road into treacherous channels of swirling mud. Trembling with both cold and fear, Lynn struggled to her feet, rainwater pouring from her clothes in heavy streams. She almost fell again, but planted one foot over the side of the road just in time, where rough grass provided enough traction to stand.

Rain and streaks of dirt mingled freely over Lynn's face, blinding her eyes as soon as she tried to open them. Swiping at her face only smeared the mud into a more hopeless mess. Lynn gave up quickly. Head turned to the ground and shoulders braced against the wind, she ran headlong against the violent downpour without daring to pause, for fear of being washed away if she did.

This fear was not unfounded. As Lynn struggled doggedly on, she saw that the chances of being swept away had become very, very real. Pebbles flew from the road in a cacophonous hail, while the wind yanked out prairie weeds by the roots and viciously tossed them into the downpour. Lynn even thought she glimpsed a young tree, branches flailing wildly as it went spiraling into the murky sky.

The wind abruptly shifted direction, and now Lynn found herself buffeted backwards. Cold drops of rain battered her exposed skin, throwing globs of dirt and ripped grass against her body. As one particularly strong gust blasted past, Lynn found herself reeling back, unable to take another step into the oncoming wind.

Suddenly, a black shadow shot out of the storm, coming so quickly that it could've only been hurtled on the wings of the squall itself. Lynn tried to duck, but was nowhere near fast enough. The dark object slammed right across her face, knocking her onto her side and throwing her through the mud.

Spitting dirt from between her bruised lips, Lynn moved shakily onto her knees. The storm tore at her hair, wrenching the blue ribbon from her hair.

"No!" Lynn cried as Alouelle's gift went fluttering into the watery whirlwind. She might have even leapt after the ribbon, risky as it was, if a hoarse groan hadn't distracted her.

"S-someone there?" Lynn yelled, peering futilely through the storm. Her words were swallowed by the wind as soon as they left her throat. "Anyone?" she shouted more desperately.

Out of the storm's deafening roar arose a faint, straining response.

Shielding her face from the rain, Lynn stumbled clumsily towards the sound.

Only to trip over a large, sodden body.

Gasping in shock, Lynn fell to her knees. Though it was impossible to see anything through the raging downpour, she remained kneeling there, panting raggedly and blinking rainwater from her eyes. Slowly, the outline of a feathered mass grew clear before her bleary eyes.

"Feear! Feear-ow!"

That croak of a call confirmed the Pokémon's identity for sure. Lynn had seen Fearow before: large, fierce bird Pokémon who fought constantly with the Pidgeot of the Verdant Forest. But this Fearow was in no condition to be fighting anything. As a flare of lightning illuminated the sky, Lynn saw that the bird Pokémon's wings were flopped uselessly to the sides.

In a burst of commiseration, she reached out to help the fallen Fearow to its feet. Her outstretched fingers brushed the Pokémon's side, briefly touching the strange white powder coating the Fearow's body.

_Snow?_ Lynn thought in disbelief, reflexively yanking back her hand. Rain swept the cold substance away before she could even try to wipe it off herself.

"Fe'raaae row! Fe'raae! Row!" The large bird Pokémon raised its head, wild eyes locking onto Lynn's terrified stare. Then, as the last of its energy dissipated, the head fell back into the mud with a splash.

Reaching into her pack, Lynn fumbled clumsily around. Trembling, she finally withdrew the packet of Gold Berries. Her slippery fingers and chattering teeth made it hard to concentrate on picking one out, but after several misses and near-drops, Lynn extracted one of the fruits and managed to crack open its tough, glittering shell.

Scooping out the Berry's innards with a finger, she approached the Fearow cautiously, unsure of what to do next. Gold Berries were known for, among other things, their remarkable restorative powers. If she could get the Fearow to swallow some, there was a chance it might recover…

As if sensing Lynn's predicament, the Fearow soundlessly parted its long beak. Swiftly, before said beak could close again, Lynn darted forward and dropped the Berry pulp into the Pokémon's mouth. It snapped back shut, just as another growl of thunder grumbled in the distance.

Now free of its ribbon, Lynn's dark hair fell over her face in a matted curtain. Gulping, she shoved it away and started to search for a second Gold Berry. Suddenly, the Fearow's drenched body gave a spastic jerk.

"Rain," it rasped, falling back to the ground with a shudder.

Lynn gaped. Never in her entire life had she ever heard of a _Pokémon _using human speech! It was as impossible as words issuing up from a rock or a tree. But yet here a Pokémon was, pronouncing unmistakably human words in front of her!

"Rain," the Fearow said again, its voice stronger than before. Its wings gave a small twitch as the Pokémon struggled to rise.

"Rain," Lynn repeated numbly as the aforementioned thing cascaded down about them in bone-chilling sheets. "Y-yeah," she said awkwardly, hoping, despite her gawking stare and crazily pounding heart, to somehow comfort the injured Pokémon. "I guess there's a lot…of r-rain."

The Fearow's head jerked slightly in her direction. In a brief flash of lightning, Lynn saw the bird's panic-stricken eyes, bulging as they darted back and forth. And in the crash of thunder that promptly ensued, the Fearow shook its long neck with equal frenzy. "Rain…" it croaked once more. "Rain…bow. Feather."

"Rainbow feather," Lynn echoed faintly. Automatically, her right hand fluttered to her pack, where her precious feather had been hidden.

Finally, the bird Pokémon's wild eyes seemed to settle on Lynn's drenched face. "Child," it implored in that same hoarse voice. "Forest child. Take the rain…bow-ack!" Once more, its sodden body convulsed. A clatter of metal rang out over the roar of the storm, followed by the splash of something plopping into the watery mud below.

Whatever it was hit Lynn sharply in the knee. As she fished it out of the mire, that metallic clash sounded again, though dulled a bit by clinging mud. The rain washed the object's surface clean swiftly enough, and by lightning's next blaze, she could dimly make out what the thing was.

It was made entirely of a smooth cold metal that glinted even in that fleeting burst of light. Though she had only a little time to discern the details, Lynn could catch glimpses of a graceful neck, a fearsomely curved beak, a single eye set in polished stone…

Something clinked as Lynn twisted the strange vessel around. Four bare metal hooks dangled from the object's side, clanging together every time Lynn moved. As her eyes shot above the hooks, Lynn saw something that stunned her even more than the talking Fearow.

Feathers. Three long, shimmering feathers, protruding from the figurine's back.

In a heartbeat, Lynn knew that these feathers were identical to her own.

"Take the Rainbow Wing," the Fearow commanded, voice stronger now that its spasms had momentarily subsided. "You know what you must do."

Somehow, Lynn did know. Or, at least, some part of her subconscious did. As if in a trance, she began to reach back. Her fingers were halfway to her pack when she suddenly caught herself and snapped out of the dreamlike state. She sat there gasping, shivering, wet, and overwhelmingly confused as the rain crashed down around her.

"Feeaar!" the Fearow gasped, wings sending sheets of muddy water rushing over Lynn's shaking knees. "Be strong, child! You must be the bearer of the Rainbow Wing now. You must finish it. Swear you will guard the Wing with your life! Under no circumstances must it fall into the hands of another! Feeaar! No! Not until it has been finished!"

Its crazed voice suddenly grew lucid and calm. "Not until it has been finished, and the bird of the seven feathers returns once more," the Fearow said in hushed tones, lightning clarifying its now clear, focused eyes. "Do this, child. Do it, or you shall bring destruction upon us all."

"The legendary b-bird of the seven feathers?" Lynn whispered disbelievingly, eyes growing wide in remembrance of Mother Woodwort's coming of age story.

_Though the bird of the seven feathers no longer flies these skies, it is said that it will someday appear again to a destined soul, one who is pure of heart and has been chosen by the fates. And that hero shall restore the balance of the world at long last, and there shall be harmony among all for the rest of time._

Some part of Lynn wanted to shake this memory off with a shrug, dismissing it as a story, and just a story. A silly little tale that couldn't possibly harbor any scraps of truth.

As if sensing her vacillation, the Fearow raised its long beak, sticking it inches from Lynn's nose. "All legends are rooted in fact, child," it croaked out.

That could be perfectly true. But it didn't have to be.

Trembling so badly that she set off a chain of ripples in the puddles around her, Lynn tried to shake her head. Still shaking it, she started backing away.

"Please, go to Verdant Stadium," the Fearow said weakly. Its movements were becoming stiffer now, its body growing clumsy and rigid. "You'll find help there. But you must be quick and brave. Go to the city and find the other feathers! Now hurry! Feeaar! Hurry, child, before you're caught…before…_FEEAAAAARRRRR_!"

The Pokémon's wild scream pierced the tempestuous sky, breaking over the roar of the rain and the deafening thunder that followed.

"C-caught?" Lynn squeaked as the shriek faded. Rain, or perhaps it was tears of frustration, blurred her eyes and burned her face with their chill. "Please," she pleaded, trying to sound composed and brave and all the other things she knew she never was. "I'm s-sorry, but I don't understand! What do you mean by caught…who's after me? And…and I've never heard of Verdant Stadium! You have to find somebody else…I…I'll…"

A shudder ran through Lynn as she realized the Fearow was dead. With one last crack, its body had frozen grotesquely in place. Now, the Pokémon's bulging yellow eyes lay hauntingly open, even as torrents of rain poured down onto their upturned surfaces, even as water pooled in the bird's feathers and slightly open beak.

"No," Lynn whimpered in horror, scrambling away from the Pokémon's corpse. She had a sudden urge to fling the Rainbow Wing, despite what the Fearow had said, into the mud and run as fast away as her legs could carry her. But she could not get her trembling limbs to work at all.

The Fearow's dying screech and ominous words rang in her ears, sending a sickening terror coursing through her body. Oblivious to the rain gushing down from the heavens, as well as the lightning flashing repeatedly in the turbulent sky above, Lynn could only dazedly crouch there, clutching the Rainbow Wing to her body as the storm raged around her,

_Be strong, child!_ the dead Fearow's command echoed in her mind. _You must be the bearer of the Rainbow Wing now! You must finish it. Do this, child. Do it, or you shall bring destruction upon us all._

"But how!" Lynn found herself choking out. "How can it destroy us? I don't know what to…I can't do this! I know it must've been important to you, but…but…"

But, as she gulped down her tears, Lynn knew this wasn't true. There was something she could do for the dead Fearow. She could do it right now, in fact, if she'd stop blabbering to its corpse.

Gritting her teeth, she guided her numb fingers to her pack and groped about its contents. It was difficult at first; her hand was so cold and wet she could barely feel a thing.

But after several painstaking minutes of searching, Lynn finally pulled out her precious rainbow feather. Holding up her feather to the three others already attached to the Rainbow Wing, she was relieved to find that they were nearly the same shape and size. This part, at least, she might not mess up. Or…

_Should I put this thing on a hook like the others?_ Lynn thought confusedly._ Do I just stick it on, or do I have to wrap the hook around it? _Seeing as she could barely see the hooks at all, this thought alone was nearly enough to overwhelm her.

But just as before, her fingers unconsciously knew what to do. Lynn watched in amazement as her hand leapt up of its own accord, grasping the feather by its quill. In one precise, decisive motion, it had pierced the quill's thin spine with a free hook. Lynn gasped as a burst of iridescent light exploded before her. The force of the blast sent her skidding and sliding back in the mud. Squeezing her eyes shut, she doggedly gripped the Rainbow Wing as it grew first burning hot, then unbearably cold.

When Lynn fearfully opened her eyes once more, her feather was attached to the Rainbow Wing as firmly as the other three. She felt a tiny surge of triumph at this success, pathetically small as it was. Clutching the Wing in one hand, and using the other hand to prop herself up, the badly shaken girl rose slowly to her feet.

The storm seemed to be calming now. The lightning had dimmed, fading slowly but surely into the distance, and the thunder no longer sounded as menacingly close overhead.

Looking back, though, Lynn saw that the Fearow's body had turned a glossy blue-white. That strange pale substance had seeped its way through the Pokémon's feathers, freezing into what looked eerily like solid ice. Lynn's fingers, the ones that had brushed the Fearow's side before, seemed to tingle with an ominous chill.

Hugging her hand to her body, the forest girl turned hastily away.

She'd seen Pokémon die before, from old age or wounds gained in territorial fights. But never from anything as strange as a sudden spreading freeze that turned your entire body into ice.

Still, despite her growing fear, Lynn couldn't help but feel a prick of sadness at the Fearow's death. She'd been the last one to see the Pokémon alive, and hadn't acted kindly towards it at all. But what was done, Lynn also reasoned, was done. As always, she had to move on.

Especially if staying meant risking the Fearow's unlucky fate.

Heaving a ragged sigh, Lynn shoved her hair behind one ear and shouldered her pack. She'd figure out what to do about this Rainbow Wing and Verdant Stadium business later, when she was warm and dry and not trying to outrun the rain. She did owe the dead Pokémon that much, she knew miserably.

Not even somewhat reassured by this decision, she moved out onto the rougher grass.

_Lynn. Lyynnnn._

Deciding it was just the wind playing tricks on her, Lynn shrugged the strange noise off. The rain had become much lighter now, no more than a drizzle, really. It wouldn't wash off the filth off her mud-caked clothes, but it wouldn't hinder travel so much, either.

Lynn decided to be thankful for that. The sudden mist that had sprung up about the field, she noted anxiously, would be all the hindrance she could handle.

[Lynn, where are you going?]

That was definitely _not _her imagination. Was it? Lynn's head jerked about, squinting through the fog for a speaker. When she found none, she mentally chastised herself and steeled her mind against any more distractions.

[Do not leave, Lynn. I have come to help you.]

Lynn walked on, determined not to pay any mind to the crazy whispers in her head. What she saw next, however, unwittingly froze her in her tracks.

A pale blue ribbon was rippling in the wind, approaching in a stately glide through the mist. Was it Alouelle's gift ribbon, the one she'd lost in the storm? Lynn took a step forward, marveling at such an impossible recovery. But as the ribbon drifted closer, Lynn saw it was far too long to be any hair ornament.

To her wonderment, a second, identical ribbon floated into view after the first. The twin bands wove a mesmerizing dance before Lynn's eyes, disappearing into the thick fog one moment and materializing in a pulsing azure aura the next. Transfixed, Lynn took another step towards them.

Just as a pair of glowing ruby eyes came forward to meet her.

A sleek head emerged from the mist, a head with a delicate ivory muzzle and piercing red eyes. A shimmering cobalt crown covered the creature's forehead; from the brief glimmers of light that sprang about it, it looked to be carved from some enormous crystal. Behind this luminous headpiece floated masses and masses of luxurious lavender mane, undulating in the same soft wind as the ribbons trailing before it.

[Lynn,] the creature with the ruby eyes intoned. The mist faded, revealing a lithe furred body shining with the same sapphire radiance as the ribbons. In fact, Lynn realized as the creature approached, those ribbons weren't really blue at all. They were as white as newly fallen snow and had only been bathed in the color of the creature's glowing coat.

Glancing back, she saw that these pure white ribbons actually formed the creature's long flowing tail, a tail that wound and floated far in front of the rest of the body.

"H-how did you know my name?" the astonished forest girl squeaked out at last._ And how can you speak like that…with no words out loud. Just in my mind?_

The creature threw back its head in a silent chuckle. [What does it matter?] it said gently. Lifting one of its four nimble paws, it took another graceful stride towards the girl. [What is that you are holding, Lynn?] it said in that same soothing voice. [Perhaps you would grant me a look. Just a single glance. Surely that would not be too much to ask?]

It was as if Lynn had forgotten everything up until this point. Looking down, and seeing the Rainbow Wing gripped tightly in her hand, gave her mind a rough shake. Suddenly, she was no longer fixated by the creature's gentle voice or its unearthly beauty. Clutching the Rainbow Wing tighter than ever, she began to back away. Undeterred, the creature steadily advanced.

[It is the Rainbow Wing, Lynn, is it not? Given to you by the previous bearer, Aeolus the Fearow.] The creature's voice melted into the sweetness of wild honey, falling to little more than a purr. [You need not hold onto the Rainbow Wing anymore, Lynn. Entrust it to me; I will take it off your hands. Aeolus was a friend of mine, and I can take care of _everything _for you. All you have to do is give me the Rainbow Wing.]

Though she'd broken out of the creature's spell, Lynn had to admit its proposal was tempting. _You were worrying what to do with this thing just before, _she thought. _Give it to someone who actually knows what to do. They'd fulfill that Fearow's last wish much better than someone like _you_. Just open your mouth and tell them they can have it. Come on, say it!_

Lynn's lips parted, but the words that came out were completely different from what she'd intended. "B-but the Fearow gave the Rainbow Wing to me," she heard herself saying nervously. "It told me not to give it to anyone else. It told me," she gulped, throat suddenly very dry, "to guard the Rainbow Wing with my life. It seemed very serious about that before it…I-I'm sorry, but I…I shouldn't…"

[Perhaps you do not understand,] the creature said impatiently, its syrupy tone evaporating. [Aeolus was old, tottering about on its last brittle wings. Its wits were nearly gone when it found you, and it had _no _idea what it was doing when it gave you those ridiculous instructions. Now give me the Rainbow Wing, Lynn. Give it to me before it is too late!]

Shivering in the suddenly gelid air, Lynn hugged her arms to her sides, the Rainbow Wing along with them. "I'm sorry, b-but I can't!"

[Do as I say, girl! Now give me the Rainbow Wing, or _I shall take it from you_!]

A frigid blast of wind slammed into Lynn's face. "No!" the girl screamed, clutching at the metal Wing even as its surface became coated in frost and her knuckles turned a bloodless white. "No, please no! Please leave m-me alone!"

With a snarl, the creature with the red eyes lunged forward, a swirling ball of energy coalescing between its open jaws. Lynn felt the Rainbow Wing's free hooks cutting into her palm as she tightened her fists. A blow to the stomach sent her sprawling back, and as Lynn looked up, the creature's arctic breath sent particles of ice creeping across her face.

[Aeolus chose poorly,] it scoffed, eyes glittering murderously. Then, lips curling, it released the blazing ball of energy from its mouth.

Lynn wasn't sure what happened next. All she remembered was screaming as the creature's attack hurtled her way, filling her entire vision with dazzling blue light. Reflexively, she threw up her hands to protect her face. It was a gesture made only in panic, a last-minute defense that should have been useless against any attack. The ball of light crashed into her hands, knocking her violently against the ground.

But the next thing she knew, a gasping howl rang through the air. Dazedly raising her spinning head, Lynn saw the red-eyed creature lying on its side, its sleek hide scorched and marred with burns. Around its body, a newly formed crater was still smoking.

Springing to her feet, Lynn was off at a panicked run. She didn't dare to look back as she raced across the waterlogged field, splattering its muddy contents in her hasty wake. In her hand, the Rainbow Wing was smoking just as the crater had, its ordinarily cool metal near scorching to the touch.

When she'd thrown up her hands, Lynn had thrown up the resilient metal ornament along with them. It had been the Rainbow Wing itself, she'd numbly realize later, that had reflected the attack.

But Lynn didn't care about any of this now. Her frenzied mind had enough sense left for only one thing: to run. So Lynn ran and ran, never noticing as afternoon darkened into evening and evening into black, all-consuming dusk.


	6. Road to Verdant City

Chapter Five

**Road to Verdant City  
**

* * *

To look at, Null Allegard admittedly wasn't very much. Anyone who happened to glance at his grimy face and perpetually cockeyed cap rarely bothered with a second look. Null's customarily cocky swagger belied a frame so slight, bony, and malnourished that most people mistook him for a child or runty adolescent, rather than a youth actually finishing up his late teens.

Of course, those who had their dealings with Null Allegard could care less about his appearance, age, or rather dubious methods. These feelings were mutual; Null made his living ferreting out miscellaneous hard-to-get items for any and all customers without bias…as long as said patrons could pay a handsome price for what they wanted. Null was morally opposed to doing anything that did not ensure personal gain. Theoretically speaking.

But skipping along the road, hands hidden within his oversized sleeves and lips pursed in a lilting whistle, Null was the perfect picture of juvenile innocence. A Butterfree tending her nectar garden fluttered a wing in greeting as the boy passed. Null smiled back impishly, continuing down the dirt path and out of town.

The ground was still damp from yesterday's sudden cloudburst, and the limpid, rain-cleansed air felt fresh and cool. Prancing clear of any lingering puddles, Null made his way past the stretch of fields that graced the city's outskirts. A grove of trees clustered together just above the horizon, marking the border between the edge of Mercury City and the northernmost fringes of the ancient Verdant Forest.

Weaving expertly through these trees, Null kept his eyes trained on the leafy boughs. Here and there, spots of vibrant color could be glimpsed in the thick foliage above: bright reds, pale yellows, delicate pinks, and deep rich blues among them. Today's color nut fest would be a bountiful one.

Pulling out an empty burlap bag from inside his sweatshirt and slinging it over one shoulder, Null grabbed some low-lying branches and hoisted himself into the tree. Long leaflets, hanging in star-shaped clusters and wet with dew, tickled his face as he began to climb. Null ignored them without much trouble; he had been using the same foot and handholds for the past year and had long grown dispassionately expert at his job.

The color nuts dangled from the higher branches, suspended by their resilient caps. Some appeared a bit cracked or misshapen, but the majority were perfectly molded spheres with smooth gleaming shells. Null selected a choice few of each color. Taking the fist-sized nuts and snapping them off their branches was easy work. Not too long later, Null was climbing down the trees with a full sack.

A grinding noise caught the attention of his sharp ears. Twisting about, Null's cat-like green eyes darted from the branches above and back to the ground.

A young girl was huddled at the base of a nearby tree, hunched over a rock and a blue color nut. Save for the constant grind of the nutshell against the stone, she made no noise whatsoever. A badly-tangled mess of dark hair fell over her face, concealing it from view.

"Hey, kid!" Null yelled, striding over and spouting off a chain of easy lies. "Hands off the nut! Those trees're private property. Specifically _my_ property! You're trespassing right now, ya know?"

The girl's hair went flying over her shoulder as she swerved about, revealing a wide-eyed face wholly drained of blood. A strangled cry burst out of her throat as she bolted up, dropping the nut in her haste. She stumbled backwards, groping wildly for something in her front pocket, before colliding with the tree behind her. Momentarily stunned, the girl stared at Null for several tense seconds, then slowly blinked. "S-sorry," she squeaked out guiltily, rubbing at the dark bags beneath her bloodshot eyes.

Sorry, just like that? No protests, accusations, or words said in self-defense? Whoever this girl was, she sure was compliant, not to mention easily spooked. The way her face had blanched, you'd think she'd seen a ghost. Or had somehow been expecting one.

"Whatcha doing with the nut?" Null inquired in a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"The…the Apricorn?" Anxiously ducking her head towards the ground, the girl scrambled forward to retrieve the blue nut. "I-I'm m-making Apricorn meal, for… uh…cakes."

"Ya can eat that stuff?"

Brow furrowing in confusion, the girl glanced at the bulging sack of color nuts slung over Null's shoulder. "You…y-you don't eat them?"

Null paused a bit at this. Every week for the last year, he had come to the same spot and picked the same number of color nuts. After packaging the lot, he would ship them by Pidgey Express to a special client in Verdant City. For all he knew, the nuts _could_ have been ground up and served there. However, the whole arrangement seemed like far too much trouble for such an unappetizing-sounding meal.

From her spot under the Apricorn tree, Lynn nervously watched the strange boy wrinkle his nose and make a grotesque face. Should she just try to sneak away? This boy didn't look as if he'd be able to follow her, not without being severely discommoded every step of the way. Though he seemed to move easily enough, the boy had the baggiest ensemble of clothes Lynn had everset eyes on. A voluminous gray sweatshirt hung nearly to his knees, its folds of dingy drapery concealing the youth's actual build. Lynn couldn't even distinguish the boy's feet underneath his equally oversized pants. A sharp knee poked out of a hole in one pant leg, while a crudely sewn patch covered the knee of the other.

"Whatcha staring at?" the boy demanded Lynn sharply, crossing his arms and upturning his nose in a rather cavalier manner. The tips of his fingers didn't even escape his floppy sleeves. When Lynn hesitated to answer, his mouth curled into a sneer. "Eating color nuts, just like that?" he snorted. "Bet you're not from Mercury, are ya, kid? Heck, you're probably not even from this region!"

"What's M-Mer…curie?" Lynn said, tentatively trying the word out for herself.

"Mercury City, kid! Huge city? Big lights? Geez, it's right down that road over there. How could ya miss it?"

Lynn thought it was rather high of him to be calling her a "kid" when he was probably still a teenager himself, but knew better than to voice such opinions. "Wh-what about Ver…Verdant City?" she asked instead, sidestepping the boy's earlier question. "Do you know where Verdant City…uh, or Stadium…is?"

The boy snorted at Lynn's ignorance. "This here's Verdant Forest, Slowpoke brain," he replied, gesturing to the trees around them. As if Lynn didn't already know that. "Verdant City'd be all the way over on the other side of the forest. And the Stadium's in the city, obviously."

Lynn stared out at the forest miserably, heart sinking. More than anything, she had hoped to find Verdant Stadium, figure out what to do with the Rainbow Wing, and fulfill the poor Fearow's dying wish as quickly as possible. Once that was finished, she would be absolved of this strange and terrifying matter for good. But the Verdant Forest was enormous. Even having lived in it her entire life, she'd never ventured through its entirety. She'd have to start now if she hoped to reach Verdant Stadium by…by next week? Next month? Next year, even?

The boy was fiddling with his hat now, Lynn noticed out of the corner of her eye. It was a large puffy hat and, as with most of the boy's attire, far too big for its owner. Several objects rained down from its sizable confines as he yanked it off – a pocket mirror, wadded-up tissues, and a pack of playing cards among them. In a seemingly desultory manner, the boy shoved each of the objects into different pockets in his shirt and pants. Then, without hesitation, he jammed his sack of Apricorns into the hat…and placed the entire thing back onto his head! As if by magic, the bag seemed to vanish completely!

Despite her previous misgivings, Lynn found this strange trick made the boy look almost comical. The symbol on the hat's front, a circle with a slash drawn through its center, _did _remind her of an Apricorn with a crack down its middle.

"Hey," she called, courage trickling back. "Er…uh, s-sorry. But is there a faster way to get to Verdant City than, um…through the forest, I mean?"

"More questions, Slowpoke brain?" the boy sneered. "I ain't runnin' a charity here. What'll ya give me if I tell ya?"

After a moment of anxious inner debate, Lynn extracted a glittering fruit from her rapidly diminishing supply of Gold Berries. "I-is this okay?" she asked, extending the Berry towards the boy. As Lynn had hoped, his sharp green eyes glinted greedily. Lynn tipped the Berry so that it caught the light and cast a golden radiance across her palm and the boy's scrutinizing face. "Can you please tell me how to get to Verdant Stadium?" she asked again.

With a grunt, the boy reached into his capacious sleeves and pulled out a flimsy white stub. Handing him the Gold Berry, Lynn took the small strip and brought it close to her eyes.

"That's a train pass," the boy explained as he pocketed the Berry. "The Magnet Train leaves Mercury Station in 'bout an hour. Got it?"

Lynn didn't "get it." A brisk run-through of finding the "station," boarding the "train," and getting off at the appropriate "stop" (most of which Lynn struggled to understand) was all the instruction that the impatient boy was willing to offer. Lynn watched him exit the forest grove with a feeling of anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Not wanting to linger here alone, she packed her things without finishing breakfast. The train pass she put in her shirt pocket, along with the Rainbow Wing. That, Lynn had decided, was the probably safest place to keep the strange vessel. Not just for the Rainbow Wing's own safety, but for her own as well.

If the demon with the red eyes should return, she'd hate to be without her only weapon close at hand.

* * *

The boy, thankfully, had been true to his word. Less than an hour of walking in the direction he'd indicated brought Lynn to the edge of the field. Just a little ways off sat a small wooden lean-to, the shade offered by its long shadow an enticing sight in the afternoon sun. Lynn headed towards it purposefully, the relief of having made it to the "train station" that the boy had described putting a bit of spring back into her weary step.

There was a board hanging above the shelter's roof, blown slantwise by yesterday's storm. Lynn cocked her head and frowned at the bold block markings on the board's surface.

_Mercury__ City__ Magnet Train, Outpost Station. Train departs at 10:30 AM and 2:00 PM. Please have your ticket ready before boarding._

Of course, just as with the marks on her Gold Berry cloth, Lynn had no idea what it meant. But at this point, she was too tired to care. Setting down her pack, she took a seat in the shadow of the deserted shelter, thankful that she had at least arrived without any more major mishaps.

Gazing out beyond the lean-to, Lynn could see a broad strip of bare ground, crisscrossed with spaced-out slats of corroded metal. This road went straight past the building, cut through the grass, and disappeared well into the distance. Lynn almost fancied it a rust-striped Ekans, stretching itself so taut that neither its head nor tail could be seen.

"Now those metal rail things," the Apricorn boy had informed her earlier, "they'd be the train tracks." Voice dripping with condescension, he had added, "Ya know? Tracks for trains. Don't get to close, 'kay? Or a train'll come along and squash ya real nice and flat."

Lynn wasn't sure what a train was, but if it would help her reach the Verdant Stadium and figure out the next piece of the Fearow's puzzle, it was fine by her. Overcome by a sudden yawn, she stretched out her arms and planted her elbows in the grass. As she leaned into her aching back, Lynn vaguely felt her eyelids slipping into place. It wasn't wise to let down her guard, but she honestly didn't think she could keep it up much longer. After her nightmarish night in the storm, Lynn had run for hours and hours, fueled by pure fear. Even when her body had been too weak run anymore, her thoughts had been too plagued by apprehension to permit any sleep. Now, however, her exhausted mind finally seemed to be shutting down…

A jarring clatter had her bolting onto her feet only a minute later. Stifling an shriek and looking frantically around, Lynn saw nothing. The clattering continued, becoming louder with each passing second. Hand darting automatically to the Rainbow Wing in her shirt pocket, she stepped cautiously forward. Surely _that _wasn't supposed to be the train?

Lynn gaped as a pillar of scintillating light ascended from the ground on the other side of the tracks. Appearing, it seemed, from the earth itself! Perhaps she was more sleep-deprived than she'd first thought.

"Oof! Ugh! Almost there…" came a groan. The pillar wobbled, but continued to rise.

Lynn blinked as the glittering column neared, its outline becoming clear as it moved into the shade. Instead of a stream of pure light, the blinding mass was actually a towering pile of shiny silver and gold boxes. Unfortunately, the boxes were teetering dangerously, their contents rattling noisily as they began to tip over. Without thinking, she dashed onto the metal train tracks, catching the boxes and pushing them back into place before they fell.

"Thanks," came the same voice as before, half-muffled underneath the tower it carried. It continued over the tracks to the train station, leaving Lynn to lick her lips nervously. Looking in the direction the boxes and their carrier had arrived from, she realized they had not risen from the ground at all.

The train station had been built on a hill, and it was down this grassy knoll that Lynn was now gazing. She could pick out the beginnings of a dirt path, winding its way from the base of the hill and disappearing into the overgrown fields beyond. But even further in the distance…Lynn's breath caught suddenly in her throat.

Gargantuan gray structures towered above the distant skyline, some hunkering together in tightly-knit groups, others looming commandingly above their fellows. Each of these massive monuments appeared to be formed from giant cliffs of cold stone, and all were perfectly symmetrical and rectangular; the entire congregation surely would've taken any human or Pokémon eons of time and limitless reserves of strength and precision to carve. At the very center stood the most breathtaking sight of all: a colossal shining dome as impossibly rounded and sleek as a newly-polished Berry shell. For several minutes, all Lynn could do was stare, drinking in the enormity of the scene before her.

"Gah, watch out! Get off those tracks!"

Finally wrenching her head away, Lynn felt crackles of static prickling her legs as the voice frantically yelled at her to move again. It was drowned out a split second later by a deafening _whoosh!_ of streamlined body against air.


	7. In Transit

Chapter Six

**In Transit  
**

* * *

Throwing herself towards the station, Lynn hit the grass with wind roaring in her ears. As she pulled herself up, wincing at the pain in the arm she'd fallen against, she couldn't help but gasp. Humming steadily, an enormous furless monster was hovering above the tracks she'd been standing on only moments ago. White, vein-like sparks raced erratically over the metal slats, weaving a flickering platform for the lengthy beast mere inches above them. The beast itself, which Lynn guessed to be the train, gleamed an eye-blinding silver, save for a jagged stripe of white rimmed in blue streaked down its sides. Numerous transparent circles were set directly above this stripe; to Lynn, they looked like an array of glistening eyes, glaring down as if to revile her very presence.

Gulping, the girl scrambled to her feet and started nervously forward. She was forced to waver, however, at the sight of the train's sleek metal surface. There was no ladder or anything of the like. How was she supposed to "get onto" the train as the Apricorn boy had instructed?

"Don't forget to show it your ticket!" advised the carrier of the boxes, hoisting his heavy ware up from the ground. "The trains are awfully picky about that."

His voice nearly made Lynn jump; she'd completely forgotten that there was another person there! As a result, it took several more seconds for his actual words to sink in. "P-Picky…?" Lynn started confusedly. "The train…it's not mad at me, is it?"

"Mad?" Her companion chuckled at this. "Heh, well, I guess it could be! Some people _do _say the trains've been feeding on the electricity for so long that they've practically come to life."

Reaching into her pocket, Lynn pulled out the "train pass" the Apricorn boy had traded her before. Feeling extremely awkward, she held the thin slip towards the colossal floating creature.

Nothing happened.

Wondering if she somehow had a defective pass, or if the train was still mad at her for being slow, Lynn uneasily pocketed the strip.

Instantly, an opening in the train's previously unblemished surface appeared with a _whoosh! _of air. Eyes widening, Lynn could only stare in amazement. What kind of animal had a mouth positioned on the side of its body like that? She had a fleeting impulse to flee before the strange monster could lunge forward and swallow her whole.

"Oh, good, it finally opened!" the box carrier said cheerfully, as if what had just transpired wasn't anything out of the ordinary. When Lynn still didn't move, he tentatively added, "Er…want to go in and get a seat?"

Was it just her, or did the sparks beneath the train seem to flare up a little more brightly, as if chortling in anticipation of the impending meal? Lynn could only blanch at the thought of walking into the creature's immense stomach. The casualness of her companion's comment, however, suggested such an action should not be unusual in the slightest.

Head spinning, Lynn finally stepped into the monster's awaiting mouth.

The air inside the train's belly was not moist and rancid as she'd expected. Instead, it was magically cooler than outside and smelt faintly of sweet Bellossom pollen. Brow wrinkling, Lynn saw that the compartment was lined with rows of benches covered in thick cushions –odd things for _any_ beast, no matter how large, to swallow! The box carrier, apparently her only companion, came after her without hesitation, dropping several of his packages as he did.

"Should've had them mailed by Pidgey Express," he muttered ruefully as more boxes rained down into the adjacent benches. "Ah, but I wouldn't want them to get there before me!" Still mumbling to himself, he deposited a good portion of the shiny boxes onto various seats. Then, taking the remainder, he plopped onto one of the cushioned benches, sighing in relief as he sat down.

Not knowing what else to do besides copy his actions, Lynn tentatively took the seat across the aisle. An odd hole in the train's side, right next to her, caught her attention. As Lynn curiously tried to reach through the hole, however, her fingers smacked into a hard surface. She retracted her hand with a start, fearful that the train would be angry again. When nothing happened, she cautiously sidled back towards the invisible pane.

Gazing out, she could make out the same view she'd been mesmerized by back on the hill. Leaning forward on the edge of her seat, Lynn narrowed her eyes for a better look at the massive stone edifices, rising from the horizon in all their sleek, polished glory.

"Thanks for helping me before! You from Mercury City?"

Startled, Lynn turned back towards the box carrier. Though he was carrying a much shorter stack now, the boxes he held were still tall enough to completely conceal his body. From the pitch of his voice and the easy friendliness of his tone, not to mention the fact that a stack so low could completely dwarf him, Lynn figured he must be a child like herself.

"Mer…Mercury City?" she echoed now, trying to remember where she'd heard the name before.

"Oh, you didn't know? Mercury's right over there - you can see it out your window! Yeah, right out there!"

Lynn could only gaze dumbly. So _that _was a city! It was even larger than she'd imagined from the stories. But with all those stone cliffs, squeezed in so tightly together, it would be a real wonder if anyone could climb onto the cliff tops…not to mention the thousands and thousands of people Mother Woodwort always claimed dwelled in cities. Perhaps they nestled together within holes in the side of the rocks…

"Oops, completely forgot! Where are you headed for?"

Shaken from her thoughts, Lynn took several moments to reply. "Oh! Um…Verdant City," she said almost inaudibly.

"Verdant, huh? Well, that's convenient; it's where I'm going, too!" Clearing his throat, the box carrier called out in a loud, clear voice, "Two to Verdant City, please! Fast as possible, if you don't mind."

Rumbling to life, the Magnet Train immediately lurched forward. Lynn almost slammed into the front of her seat as the train threw itself headlong down the track. As she hung onto the edge of the cushion for dear life, more boxes from the other seats clattered to the ground.

"Sorry about all my Festival presents cluttering up the place," the voice from behind the boxes said apologetically. "I have a lot of relatives, and I feel bad when I leave anybody out. Gah, right! Better introduce myself!" he added abruptly. "Name's Feldspar. Feldspar of Midnight Mesa. You?"

"Oh! Um, I-I'm Lynn. From…uh, Verdant."

"Nice to meet you, Lynn. I'd shake, but…" The boxes shifted pointedly. "You visiting family in Verdant City, too, by any chance?"

Moving uneasily back against the side of the train, Lynn wondered how to answer. The story echoing in her mind seemed a bit too complicated, and far too fantastical, to voice to a stranger. "Er…I…I-I'm going to the Verdant Stadium," she said at last, settling for just the bare bones of her journey's objectives. "Do you…um, would you maybe know how I could find it?"

"Oh, that should be easy. Verdant Stadium's huge. It's really big and white, with arches on the sides and this…uh, big arena in the middle. Tons of folks go there, every day. Just…tons. Are you going to a Stadium match, then?" The question superficially sounded offhand, but Lynn could hear thinly concealed disdain creeping into Feldspar's voice.

"What's a…?" she started to ask, before breaking off. "Well, no." Lynn gulped before venturing, "Um, what are…"

She winced as a box went flying off Feldspar's lap, hitting the side of the train and rebounding with a sharp crack.

"Only the most horrible and pointless things in the entire world!" Feldspar cried. "My cousin, Mica, was all like 'Oh, just _go_ to one of the matches, Feldspar. Just once and you'll enjoy it!' How anyone could enjoy_that_ is completely beyond me! I swear, they're all sick! I mean, why would _anyone_ want to watch a…"

With a loud clatter, half of the boxes Feldspar was still holding went crashing to the ground. "Oops," he said sheepishly. "Sorry about that! I get carried away about things real easy. Oh, don't worry about those boxes! Just leave them on the ground; I'll pick them all up when we get off the train."

But Lynn wasn't staring at the fallen boxes because she wanted to pick them up. Now that half of Feldspar's pile had disappeared, the boxes in front of him were stacked no higher than the top of the seat. And still, she couldn't even see the top of his head. Just how short could a person be?

"Um, s-sorry…but…" she started awkwardly. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was at a complete loss as how to go on. Luckily, Feldspar chose that exact moment to cry out in delight.

"Wow! Lynn, take a look outside! We must be hundreds of feet off the ground!"

Meekly, Lynn slid to the other side of her seat and peered outside. She found herself looking down upon a sea of vibrant green treetops. It seemed to stretch for miles in every direction, marred only by a stripe of metal supported by columns rising from the canopy. Lynn's stomach turned as she realized that this thin stripe was what the train was racing across now and that one misstep could send them all crashing into the forest below.

Leaves below rippled in the wake of the passing train. Some tore themselves away from their branches and spiraled close to the window. One airborne form, however, was definitely not a leaf. Wings spread and beak open in a soundless call, a plumed Pidgeot dipped past, the tip of its wing just brushing the outside of the train.

"Cloudguider?" Lynn whispered, putting a hand against the transparent barrier that separated them.

With a deft tilt of its wing, the Pidgeot soared over the train and out of sight.

"Friend of yours?" came Feldspar's voice. Lynn started up in surprise before realizing that he was only joking. "Sorry I interrupted you before," Feldspar apologized hastily, sounding truly sincere. "What were you saying?"

"Um…nothing."

* * *

Lynn didn't recall dozing off, though it admittedly wasn't much of a surprise given her sleepless last night. The next thing she knew, the train had drawn to a stop and Feldspar's excited voice was urging her to wake up. Jerking her head off her shoulder, and wiping a string of drool from her mouth, Lynn chanced a glance outside. Enormous grey structures similar to the ones she'd seen from Mercury City shot up to meet her. Feeling faint, Lynn turned away, grabbed her pack, and slid into the aisle.

Once again, there was no exit in sight.

"Don't wait for me!" came Feldspar's voice. "It's gonna be a while before I can get all my stuff together." The stack of boxes shifted a little, and Feldspar accidentally dropped several more onto the seat. "Oops. You'd better leave without me. Just ask the train to let you out."

Gulping, Lynn moved to the train's smooth side and stationed herself a good foot back from it. "S-sorry, but I…um, I need to get out," she started awkwardly. "So…so if you could…p-please..."

The wall before her remained impassively solid.

From the back, Feldspar gave a small giggle. "It's only playing with you," he chuckled. "You have to be more forceful. Really yell at it!"

"Let me out!" Lynn tried desperately. "Please!"

With a swish of air, the slick surface drew back on itself, creating a wide gap in the middle of the train's side. Sighing in relief, Lynn stepped out into the blinding afternoon sunlight. As she went, the train gave a little buck, sending her tumbling onto the hard platform outside.

"Thank you," Lynn muttered, rubbing her sore leg. Back inside the train, she could hear Feldspar giggling again. Groaning, but feeling rather good all the same about making it this far, Lynn got to her feet. And froze in an overwhelming wave of astonishment and incredulity.

All around her, humans and Pokémon were mingling together and milling about as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Some were strolling down the numerous grey walkways, while others were walking into and out of the towering stone structures that Lynn had noticed before. That alone might not have been so much of a shock. What really hit Lynn was that there was absolutely no sound of any Pokémon cries anywhere.

Every single being in the entire city was clearly using human speech, just like the Fearow from the storm.

Lynn could only gawk as she caught sight of a middle-aged woman and a stout Jynx walking side-by-side, discussing beauty tips. On a nearby corner, a Tropius vendor was announcing its wares, fresh fruit, in a deep ringing voice. And in the shade of a nearby building wall, a gang of children accompanied by a Flaaffy, a Marill, and a Bagon, were laughing loudly over a crude joke.

"Are you lost, sweetheart?" asked a kindly looking Donphan as it plodded past Lynn, carrying a bulky bag in its trunk.

Lynn quickly swerved away and bumped into a burly Machamp who was passing by. "Hey, watch where you're goin', kid!" the Pokémon snapped, shaking three of its four fists in the girl's direction.

Heart throwing itself frantically against her ribs, Lynn stumbled backwards. She fell back against the train with a thud.

"You okay, Lynn?" came Feldspar's concerned-sounding voice. Lynn twisted about just in time to see Feldspar abandon all his gifts and rush worriedly towards her.

Now she could see why the pile of boxes had always managed to dwarf her fellow passenger. Feldspar stood no more than two feet high at his tallest point, a stubby horn on the top of his head. Covered in rocky skin marked with black diamonds, and sporting a rosy-toned stomach, fan-shaped tail, and chubby paws, Feldspar was a Larvitar.

A tiny little Larvitar, just like the ones who snapped at Lynn's heels whenever she ventured too close to their burrow by the cliffs.

"Lynn? What's the matter?" Feldspar asked, his rocky brow furrowing. Noticing her wide-eyed stare, the Larvitar glanced down at himself confusedly. "What, do I have a piece of granite stuck in my teeth from breakfast?"

Trying to get her legs to stop trembling, Lynn dropped her gaze to the ground. "Y-you talk," she gulped. "All of you t-talk, just like p-people."

"Well, of course," Feldspar said confusedly. "We're all people here, aren't we?"

Lynn's head reeled as the unreality of this new world flooded it in a dizzying rush. Pokémon shouldn't be able to talk. Lynn had sometimes supposed that the rearranged syllables they often uttered could be some kind of language. But before setting off on her coming-of-age journey, the idea of Pokémon using human speech, or acting in any kind of human role, had been absolutely absurd.

The talking Fearow and red-eyed demon had certainly begun to shatter these conceptions, but at least they'd hit her in short, isolated incidents. Now surrounded by walking impossibilities on all sides, Lynn felt as if her overloaded mind was melting down at last.

"S-sorry, I've got to g-go!" Lynn managed finally. "I…I need to find that St-stadium."

"Oh. Well, it's right down the street and to your left," Feldspar instructed as Lynn started shakily away. "Remember, it's the big one made of white marble!"

He raised his voice when the girl failed to respond. "Good luck, Lynn!" he yelled after her retreating form. "Bye!" Still perplexed, the Larvitar watched for a moment as the girl made her way precariously down the street, hugging her arms to her body and flinching whenever another pedestrian brushed past.

"Wonder why she didn't say goodbye," Feldspar mused, scratching at his head with one stubby claw. "Gotta remember to floss more often."

There was a noisy clatter from behind. Feldspar turned to see the Magnet Train disdainfully ejecting every one of his foil-wrapped gift boxes. The glittering gold and silver presents flew through the air and landed roughly on the waiting curb, burying the small Larvitar under an enormous heap.

"I was just about to get them myself!" Feldspar grumbled from beneath the boxes.

With a derisive crackle of static, the train sped off down the track.


	8. Unlikely Savior

Chapter Seven

**Unlikely Savior  
**

* * *

"PokéBlocks! Freshly made PokéBlocks! Specially blended to bring out the best in you!"

"Miracleberries, sold by the bushel! Cures everything from headaches to burns!"

"Step right up to the Haircut Booth! Don't be shy, and you could come away with a whole new look!"

Lynn had wondered before how so many people could live in a single city. But back then, she apparently hadn't taken into account how much said people could endure. Yelling, cursing, and grabbing over each other's heads didn't seem to be above anybody. Neither was haphazardly shoving, rushing, and dodging all along the narrow lanes. The passive Lynn was knocked down several times; each time, the individual who'd crashed into her didn't even pause long enough to notice.

Bit by bit, Lynn wormed her way through the teeming crowd, across the walkways, and past the towering black structures that shot up from all sides. Hugging her pack protectively again her chest, she winced whenever another person or Pokémon roughly buffeted past.

_Take heart,_ Lynn told herself repeatedly. You always wanted to visit the cities in Mother Woodwort's stories. _You knew things in cities were bound to be more…exotic. Aren't you lucky to finally be here?_

Those words were easy enough to chant in her head. At that moment, however, Lynn would've much preferred to be sitting in a circle around the bonfire, listening to Mother Woodwort's stories about brave heroes in faraway lands…_much _more so than futilely trying to be one of those heroes herself. _Just go to the Stadium like the Fearow asked you to,_ Lynn reminded herself, feeling the weight of the Rainbow Wing in her pocket. _That's all. Then its soul can rest in peace, and you'll be free for good._

In the end, Feldspar proved to be right. The Verdant City Stadium was easy to find – Lynn spotted it right after she turned the corner. It was getting into the Stadium that was going to be ridiculously difficult. Like Feldspar had told her, the Stadium was an enormous cylindrical structure crafted entirely from gleaming white stone. Numerous archways around its curved sides provided entrances to an inner area…all of which were currently clogged with masses of humans and Pokémon alike.

Still clutching her pack with both arms, Lynn stared at the veritable flood of people moving beneath the arches. The crowds stretched all the way across her line of sight, winding off into the far distance. To make matters even worse, what looked to be gruff guards stood at every one of the Stadium's many entrances.

Creeping timidly through the crowd, Lynn watched one guard, a scowling Rhydon, shove back a small Totodile.

"The ticket booth is at the other side of the building!" the Rhydon growled irritably. "Now get out of my face!"

The little gator Pokémon fell back, whining loudly. "I know I bought a ticket just last week!" it yelled indignantly at the guard. "Just give me five more minutes and I swear I'll find it!"

The Rhydon ignored the Totodile's cries. As it turned back to the next individual in line, a tawny-haired human boy, Lynn saw a thin red slip pass from boy to guard.

"Hey, the end of the line's back there!" snapped a tall girl standing behind Lynn. Jerking around with a jolt, then murmuring an inaudible apology, Lynn moved hastily away. Unable to see where she was going, however, she bumped into someone else as she backed up.

"Sorry!" Lynn gulped out for the umpteenth time, recoiling and trying to move in a different direction. The crush of the surrounding crowd, however, was too heavy for her to escape. As she tried squirming through a small opening between two quarreling Psyduck, Lynn inadvertently lost her footing. With a yelp, she found herself tripping forward, knocking over a small girl as she fell.

"S-sorry," Lynn squeaked again as she picked herself off the ground. The girl she had knocked over, a slight, fragile-boned child nearly a head shorter, looked up through wispy purplish bangs.

"S'okay," the little girl said in a soft, lilting voice. Her large eyes closed briefly as she smiled, and the next thing Lynn knew, the other girl was on her feet and weaving her way expertly through the crowd. Surprisingly, no one seemed to take notice as she passed through. They certainly didn't yell at or tell _her _to move to the back of the line.

Curious, Lynn followed the other girl through the crowd. Not as nearly as adept, she lost sight of her bobbing head several times. Breaking past a cluster of chortling Spinda, Lynn caught a glimpse of the small girl walking past a guard and through a nearby archway. Summoning all her nerve, Lynn scurried in after her.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" the guard, a brawny Typhlosion, demanded, grabbing Lynn by the shoulder. "We don't appreciate brats like you trying to sneak in!"

Heart racing in panic, Lynn hurriedly tried to blurt out an apology.

"S'okay, Firrell," came that same soft voice. Lynn's head jerked about to see the little girl standing just inside the entrance, eyes closed and mouth curved into that same mild smile. "She's coming with me. You can let her through."

Still eying Lynn distrustfully, the Typhlosion released her with a rough shove. "Are you sure about this one, Eppie?" the fire Pokémon growled. "It looks awfully flighty. Not to be trusted."

"S'okay, Firrell," the girl, Eppie, repeated. Turning back to Lynn, she gestured for her to move forward. "C'mon," she said, eyes still closed. "I'll take you to my brother. He'll wanna see you."

Feeling the suspicious glare of the guard still fixed on the back of her neck, Lynn gulped and ducked her head. Not knowing what to say, she mutely hurried through after Eppie. She was just in time to see the other girl vanishing down a set of stairs half-hidden in the shadows between two arches.

Biting nervously at her lip, Lynn made her way down the steps as well.

The stone floor of the underground hall felt numbingly cold beneath Lynn's bare feet. Though small flaming torches had been affixed to the walls at regular intervals, their tiny fires weren't nearly enough to warm the frigid air. Nor could they illuminate the passage well enough to dispel the elongated shadows flickering across the walls.

Above the ceiling, Lynn could hear the faint sounds of metal clashing against metal, echoed by rambunctious cries and laughter. She wanted to pause and listen more closely, but her guide showed no sign of stopping. As she glimpsed Eppie disappearing around a dark corner ahead, Lynn had no choice but to dash after her.

For more several minutes, the two girls traveled down a wide marble hallway, the slap of their bare feet echoing in the enclosed space. Lynn kept her eyes on the white cloth of Eppie's sleeveless shirt and pants, the only part of the other girl that was readily visible in the progressively darkening passage. Eppie, for her part, didn't seem to need any sort of guiding light. She marched down the corridor with easy confidence, arms swinging and feet clearly well accustomed to the path they took.

Just when Lynn had just about lost all sense of time and direction in the nearly complete darkness, Eppie, footsteps as regular as clockwork, came to a halt. "We're going up now," her disembodied voice rose out of the shadows. "Better watch the first step."

Nodding, even though Eppie probably couldn't see her, Lynn tested the lowest stair with her toes before sliding one foot, then the other, onto its surface. Focusing all her concentration into the next step, then the next, she continued in this halting fashion the rest of the way up.

She bumped into Eppie as she neared the top stair. Hurriedly withdrawing to the side, Lynn slowly realized that the smaller girl was straining to push against something in the ceiling of the passage. She'd been trying, perhaps for quite some while, without much success. Slowly, Lynn inched forward, just as Eppie began to pound at the ceiling. The steps were wide enough for two people, and Lynn's free hand soon found the cold smooth surface of what seemed to be a metal door. "Ah, maybe we should…I mean, d-do you want to try it together?" she suggested tentatively.

Though she couldn't see much on the dark stairway, Lynn instantly pictured Eppie shaking her bangs out of her eyes and smiling. Sure," the other girl said agreeably. "Count of three?"

"One, two, and three…"

Both girls shoved with their combined strength at the heavy door. Lynn grit her teeth as a crack of light began to appear at its base. Bracing her legs against the top step, she thrust her shoulder under the metal and shoved…

With a stubborn groan, the door creaked open, revealing an illuminated opening so bright that Lynn automatically winced and looked away. Eppie, however, cried out joyfully upon being rid of the darkness at last. Before Lynn could even move, the other girl was through the door and out of sight. Lynn finally followed more hesitantly, one hand held up against the blinding light.

The sounds of scuffling and clunking were louder up here. Taking the final step out of the passageway, Lynn blinked. She was standing on the raised edge of a small courtyard flooded with sunlight. Lingering a bit, Lynn looked up at the sweeping stone walls that surrounded the enclosure, then towards the cloudless blue sky stretched high above it.

Slowly, Lynn loosened her grasp on her pack, then spread her arms to meet the caress of the sun. The fresh breeze whisking through her hair was a welcome relief from the musty underground, and the sun-warmed stones below seemed to thaw the soles of her numb feet. She certainly wouldn't have minded standing here for several moments more, basking contentedly in the light.

But realizing that Eppie was nowhere in sight, Lynn reluctantly forced herself back to attention. Debating whether or not to call out for the other girl, she walked down another flight of steps into the lowered center of the courtyard…

And met with the edge of a silver blade.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you."

Trying to force her throbbing heart out of her throat, Lynn hastily opened her mouth. The metal flashed as the sword drew closer, reducing what was left of her composure to a ragged, shaking mess. "I-I didn't mean to d-do anything wrong!" she choked out in frightened protest. "I-I…"

"She's telling the truth, big brother!" Eppie's voice cried out from the side. "Don't hurt her!"

The boy with the sword did not take his eyes off Lynn. "Eppie, move back," he commanded in a ringing voice.

"But…!"

"Move back before you get hurt!" the boy barked.

Though Eppie had called him brother, Lynn could see little resemblance between the two. Eppie, who could be deemed small and frail at best, was downright pathetic standing next to this bristling boy. With his muscled arms, flying black hair, and piercing dark eyes, _he _towered well over a foot above Lynn and would have made an imposing sight even without a sword in hand.

"Please, don't hurt her!" Eppie tried again. "You can't!"

Lynn gasped as the small girl hurtled forward, grabbing her by the hand and staring desperately back at the boy. "Please, big brother, listen to me," Eppie pleaded. "I brought her here to meet you…"

The sword flashed again and Lynn squeezed her eyes shut in terror. When she opened them, the metal blade was a fraction of a finger's length from her throat.

"I send you out for a practice sword, and you bring back this pathetic excuse for a Human?" The boy's voice was now quieter and more controlled, but still verging on a growl. "We have no use for strays like this, Eppie."

"Big brother, please." Eppie's voice trembled in an attempt to hold back tears. "Put down that sword." Her bony fingers tightened around Lynn's wrist, nearly cutting off her circulation with their surprising strength.

"She's right, you know," rang a clear masculine voice through the air. Lynn's eyes darted about in search of the speaker, but the boy's intense gaze never wavered from its target.

"Cro, we all know you're not permitted a real weapon out of battle," came the voice again, just as even as before. "Would you have a Master stumble in right now and see you waving that around?"

Lips tightening to suppress a snarl, the boy slowly withdrew the sword. Nerves severely frazzled, Lynn fell to her feet, Eppie's frail hand still clutching at her own. From the side, the shaken forest girl glimpsed a flicker of movement.

Jagged yellow tail bobbing out behind it, Lynn's rescuer leapt into the center of the stone arena, its attentive black eyes still fixed on Cro.

"Thank you," the wiry Pikachu said, nodding to the boy as he sheathed the sword. Turning to Lynn and Eppie, it (_or was "it" a "he"?_ Lynn wondered numbly, not knowing how to address her sudden savior) inclined his head in greeting. "My name is Sparkacus," the Pikachu told Lynn, extending his tail towards the girl. "What brings you to the Stadium?"

Lynn shook the offered tail with a still trembling hand. "I-I..I'm Lynn. From V-verdant," she said. Despite trying as hard as she could to keep her voice from quavering, she predictably failed miserably. "And I came here b-because…because…"

"Coz I brought her," Eppie broke in, releasing Lynn's arm at last.

An irritated groan escaped the nearby Cro. "And why, Eppie, why?" the boy demanded, slapping the flat of his palm against the stone side of the courtyard. "Don't we have enough to deal with already?"

The small girl was not intimidated. Drawing herself up to her pitifully small height, Eppie moved in front of Lynn. "She told me to, big brother," the little girl said in a clear, proud voice.

Lynn blanched at this statement. But before she could object, Eppie continued. "Epiphany told me to bring her here after we saw her. So I did. Just like Epiphany asked me to."

"Epiphany again?" Cro snapped incredulously. "Honestly, Eppie, how many times do I have to say this? Epiphany's your real name! She's _you_, not some stupid imaginary friend who's got a hobby of getting you into trouble all the time!"

"I'm not Epiphany," Eppie stated unwaveringly.

"Oh, please. Why do you keep denying it?"

"Because I'm not," Eppie said, voice softer, but no less firm, than before. Head thrust back, she stared unfalteringly back at the angry boy. "Epiphany knows so many things that I don't," Eppie went on, voice dwindling into little more than a whisper. "Epiphany told me that, today, the last heir will finally arrive."

From where Lynn knelt, she could only see the back of Eppie's head, where her wispy purple hair was pulled back into a thin tuft of a ponytail. That lackluster lavender was a strange color for hair, one that reminded Lynn of wild Rattata fur. Eppie herself might have been no more than a small forest Rattata, claws dug into the ground and scrawny body braced for a blow. Cro, with his flashing eyes and sweeping black hair, should have been the swiftly attacking Sneasel.

_Should _have been.

To Lynn's disbelief, Cro's narrowed eyes were widening, the enraged snarl on his lips slackening into an open gape of surprise. "The last heir has finally arrived?" he repeated disbelievingly. His face contorted with anger once more. "What on earth are you blathering on about now!"

A slap of wood and squeak of rubber on stone sounded. Eppie had pulled out a practice sword and let it fall onto the ground. Without a word, she rushed to the stairs at the edge of the courtyard. Lynn caught a glimpse of Eppie's face as she passed. The girl's eyes were bright with contained tears.

"Eppie, wait!" Cro yelled after her. "For Martyr's sake, don't…!" He broke off, groaning in frustration, as the small girl disappeared down the steps. The slam of the falling metal door echoed after her.

From his crouch against the side of the courtyard, Sparkacus the Pikachu shook his yellow-furred head. "You can talk to her later," he called over to Cro. "But now that she's brought the sword, we had better practice."

"Screw practice, Spark! Don't you think I should get _this _straightened out first?" Cro shot back, voice so loud and furious that Lynn automatically tried to efface herself against the courtyard walls.

Summoning the last of her strength as Cro and Sparkacus continued to argue, she staggered onto her wobbly legs and hurried towards the trapdoor Eppie had left through before. Trying to reopen the door alone, however, proved to be an impossible task. Jaw clenched, Lynn clasped her fingers around the door's metal ring of a handle and strained with all her might.

The door did not budge one inch. Stomach writhing in dread, Lynn could only turn back to the courtyard and its two quarrelling occupants.

"Eppie may be upset now, Cro," Sparkacus was saying, "but how would she feel if you got yourself killed today? Now calm down and pick up the sword. Let's get in at least one practice round before this evening."

Breathing heavily, the boy bent and swiped the practice weapon into his hand. Faster than Lynn's eye could track, he leapt forward with a wild scream, forcing the Pikachu to dodge to the side. Sparkacus clenched his paws and countered with a streaking bolt of electricity from his ruddy cheeks. The scintillating attack branched out in Cro's direction, far too fast and wide to evade.

Lynn watched in fascinated horror as the electric stream arched towards the boy. Regaining total equanimity at last, Cro held up his sword and absorbed each lightning bolt with rapid turns of the rubber-coated weapon. The streaks of electricity became smaller and more numerous, forcing the boy to work his blade into a blur.

As Sparkacus's attack broke at last, Cro shot forward with his weapon raised. But though temporarily drained of electricity, the Pikachu was far from being out of energy. Cro's falling sword hit nothing but stone - Sparkacus had darted away from the attack with room to spare. Cro's eyes flitted about as an entire ring of lifelike Pikachu copies sprang up around the small arena.

_Copies? I've seen that before, _Lynn mused to herself. _With the forest Pikachu playing by the Berry trees._

"Your Double Team technique's gotten better," Cro called out loudly. But if he was hoping to provoke an answer from Sparkacus, his cries were in vain. Brows knitting in concentration, Cro pivoted about on the ball of his foot. Without warning, he struck out at one of the Pikachu images. It disintegrated into nothingness as soon as the sword made contact. Again Cro made a stab at one of the many Pikachu. It too disappeared with a brief flash.

Frustrated, Cro swept his weapon through an entire row of the bobbing clones. They vanished, and with a flicker of light, more Pikachu copies materialized around the arena. Lynn stifled a squeak of surprise as one appeared only a foot away from her.

A deft sword stroke dispelled this false copy only seconds after it had appeared. Looking apprehensively upward, Lynn saw Cro's flushed face twitch into a scowl.

"And why are _you _still here?" he asked her. More of Sparkacus's Double Team clones shifted into view around them; Cro dispatched them all with a swipe of the blade.

Embarrassed, Lynn gestured to the closed trapdoor. "S-sorry, I t-tried to open it before…" she began awkwardly.

Before she could even finish, Cro had broken in with a sigh. Batting away more Pikachu copies with his practice sword, he extended his free hand and clasped it around the ring handle. "Here," he grunted, effortlessly hoisting up the trapdoor and indicating the exit with a jerk of his head. "Well, what's wrong now?" he demanded as Lynn hesitated.

"Um…er, well…I d-don't know my way around down there," she admitted, looking at her knees. "I can wait until you finish…uh, and follow you out. If that's okay with you," she added hastily. "S-sorry for the trouble."

Cro didn't answer. With a cry, he lunged forward and struck at a seemingly random Pikachu. In a flash, all the clones had vanished, leaving only one reeling Pikachu: the real Sparkacus. Without hesitation, Cro brought his sword to the Pokémon's head.

"Don't!" Lynn cried in horror.

Ignoring her, the boy smacked the flat of the blade against Sparkacus's skull.

The Pikachu slumped to the ground.

"No!" Lynn yelped, leaping onto her feet. She started forward, faltering as she remembered how Cro had threatened her before. But the boy even wasn't looking in her direction; he was more preoccupied with Sparkacus. The Pikachu was struggling into a semi-sitting position, Lynn saw with relief, one paw gingerly examining the bump swelling under his scalp.

"You're getting slow, Spark," Cro said wryly, leaning back on his sword.

"Speak for yourself, my friend. It certainly took you long enough to get past my Double Team attack."

"That was only because the sun was behind the clouds at the start of the match! Once I saw your shadow, Spark, I knew which one you were. But when I attacked, you should've at least _tried _to move! Unless…" Cro grinned and nudged the Pikachu teasingly with his toe, "…you really _are _getting slow. Honestly, you had _more _than enough time to launch a Thunderbolt or something when I was busy helping Miss Incapable over there." He jerked a thumb in Lynn's direction.

Sparkacus wrinkled his nose at this suggestion. "And run the risk of injuring our guest?" Trotting on all fours past the black-haired boy and up the courtyard steps, the Pikachu took a perch on a nearby stone block. "Please excuse my teammate," he told Lynn apologetically. "Cro often forgets the definition of courtesy. Try not to take him seriously."

Lynn, who'd been cringing at Cro's offhanded insult, couldn't help but appreciate this small kindness.

"No one asked you to," Cro said rather harshly before Lynn could reply. "Here at the Stadium, we could care less about you, Lynn of Viridian."

"Actually, it's… it's V-Verdant," Lynn corrected all-too-timidly. She hated how weak her voice sounded.

Cro's coal black eyes flashed in triumph. "Well, there's no way you're the last heir," he announced. "It doesn't matter what Eppie said. You can't even get the name of your own town right, and I'll bet you don't even know the names of the other cities in this region."

"Um…" Lynn racked her brains for even a remotely acceptable answer. "I know M-mer…curie," she said at last.

"Its name is _Pewter _City, not Mercury," Cro shot back sharply. "Some last heir you'd be, using those revolting Master names left and right. It's Pewter and Viridian, not Mercury and Verdant. For Martyr's sake, don't you have any pride at all?"

"Pr-pride? In…what?"

Ignorance may not have been a crime, yet the way Cro's face had contorted, he seemed apt to murder Lynn on the spot.

"Pride in _WHAT_?" he roared in Lynn's face. The girl backed hastily away as Cro's voice escalated into a thunderous yell. "It's bad enough that you just barge in here for no reason at all!" he shouted, eyes blazing. "And somehow Eppie's gotten it into her head that _you're_ the last heir! How stupid is that? You've deserted us long ago, Lynn of Viridian! There's no way you're going to be the one to save us all _now_!"

"Cro, please," Sparkacus entreated. "It's clear the poor girl has no idea what you're talking about."

"Wait," Lynn started hesitantly. In fact, she was finally beginning to have some idea about what Cro meant after all.

But her timorous voice was drowned out by Cro's coarse laugh. "And why would she need explanations?" the black-eyed boy demanded, his shout simmering into a mocking hiss. "She's just another stray off the street. All she'll be to us is trouble, Spark. Heck, we'll probably have to clean up the whole mess when her Master finds out she's gone. _She's_ obviously not capable of anything other than whining!"

His callous words stung badly. Lynn wanted to protest his accusations, exclaim that they were completely wrong. But to her uttermost humiliation, she felt hot tears welling up at the corner of her eyes, ready to spill out at a moment's notice. "I-I don't know what you m-mean," she said finally, bowing her head towards the ground so that Cro and Sparkacus wouldn't see her face.

"Even forgotten your Master's name, have you?" Cro snapped. "Isn't there anything you _can _do by yourself?"

That was it. The dam burst, sending fat tears streaming down Lynn's face. Hating herself for being so easily broken, Lynn kept her face lowered in hopes that no one would notice. "I don't have a Master," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I d-don't even know what that is!"

Cro saw the tears, all right. When his voice came again, it wasn't nearly as harsh as before. "Look, it's okay," he said quietly, having finally realized he'd gone too far. "Spark and I won't get you into any trouble. We can help you get back to your Master. Just…just stop crying, okay? "

The Pikachu cleared his throat abruptly. "And remember to excuse Cro for being a jerk," he finished for his friend. "That's just the way he is, I'm afraid."

"Listen to Spark," Cro agreed. Then, after a moment's pause- "Hey!"

Lynn managed a shaky smile. Pulling back tangled hair from her wet face, she slowly looked up at Sparkacus's kindly face and Cro's dark eyes…

Which were rapidly widening as Lynn looked him in the face for the first time. "You…you _were _telling the truth!" Cro cried in disbelief. "About not having a Master. And if you don't have a Master, then you must be a Master yourself." In a flash, his eyes had grown hard. It was Lynn's turn to gasp in surprise as she found herself at swordpoint, for the second time that day.

But at least this time it was only a wooden practice weapon, not the glittering metal blade that had instilled so much terror before. Spots dancing before her eyes, she forced herself not to turn away and make herself look even more guilty. "I-I don't know what you mean by Master," Lynn found herself saying at last. "I d-don't understand how you can tell if I'm one of them or n-not." Overcome by a mixture of fear and indignation, something in her finally snapped. "But I haven't done anything to you!" she cried, several more tears slipping down her face. "S-so…so stop threatening me!"

Behind her, she could hear Sparkacus thumping his tail in approval. Cro himself looked as surprised as Lynn now felt at her sudden outburst. Slowly, he retracted his weapon. But the suspicion was still there, caught in the furrows of his tanned forehead.

"It may be a stupid decision on my part," he said finally, frown deepening. "But maybe I'll give you one chance. But only one."

Cro's hand tightened around the hilt of his wooden sword. "Rest assured, Lynn of Viridian, that if you really are a Master, then you've already done something I won't forgive. And I'll be happy to go a heck of a lot further than just _threatening _you."

Stepping into the sunlight, Cro's free hand rose to his neck, indicating a thin black band that Lynn hadn't thought to take note of before. Glancing back at Sparkacus, Lynn saw that the Pikachu had a similar band fastened around his own neck.

"You have no Ring," Cro told the puzzled girl. "I didn't notice it before with all your hair in the way, not until you pushed it back just then. You know what that means, don't you?"

Lynn shook her head in confusion.

"Centuries ago, my people fought the ancestors of the Masters in this very city," the boy said, coal-black eyes blazing. "The ancestors of the Masters were made up of Pokémon rebels and the Human traitors who joined them. They defeated my people and the Pokémon who'd stayed loyal. And they Ringed us, forever marking us as slaves. Today, we're no better off. Some of us Ringed are servants or pets for the wealthy. Others, like me and Sparkacus, fight in Pokémon-Human battles at Stadiums to entertain Masters."

Cro's lip curled at this statement. "They probably thought that was funny," he snarled. "Making _us _fight the battles. It would have been funny to _them_, in a sick and twisted way. The ultimate irony."

And Lynn knew why.

"Your people," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "Your people were the Pokémon Trainers."


	9. A Conundrum for Corundum

Chapter Eight

**A Conundrum for Corundum  
**

* * *

Though it had stopped raining well before midday, droplets of rain still clung to the office window. Beyond the glass panes, the fields of the Verdant City Park gleamed a lush emerald. Once dying dried grass now shone in thick green waves, as if magically revitalized by last night's storm.

As usual, however, Stadium Master Corundum Earthshaker was too busy to even glance outside. As the esteemed manager of the equally reputable Verdant City Stadium and governor of Verdant City itself, Corundum rarely ever had a moment to spare. And when he did, it was most certainly not for something as trifling as the scenery.

Leaning back in his spacious swivel chair, the middle-aged Tyranitar clacked his claws impatiently together. His sharp black eyes were focused on the monitor screen in front of him, where the image of a stony-faced Dragonite was currently displayed.

"Patrols found the Fearow's body on the route outside Mercury," the Dragonite was saying now, head bowed so deeply that only her slender antennae were visible. "It was frozen solid to the ground. Aeolus had his share of enemies while he was still living in Verdant City, I'm assuming."

Still twiddling his claws, Corundum gave a tired laugh similar to sandpaper scraping against cement. "Aeolus was a zealot," the Tyranitar said shortly. "And a rather annoying one. Someone clearly saw fit to put him in his place, though whether or not that someone was a Verdant citizen can't be told. At any rate, it's not our problem. Aeolus and his little escapades have been taken care of, and that's the end of that."

The Dragonite's pale golden forehead furrowed into a disapproving frown. "Your fellow Stadium Masters, including myself," Tiamat said sharply, "think the Fearow posed a much greater threat than that. Don't you have any idea of the talk floating around these days? Stories about an ancient race of Humans called the Pokémon Trainers. And a legend about a young man known as the Martyr…"

"…who reportedly led a Trainer and Pokémon army against the Masters long ago. And lost," Corundum finished for her. He sighed and rubbed his rocky-hided temples with the flats of his broad paws. "I fail to see how these little fairy tales concern me, Tiamat. If you'll excuse me…"

"Legend also has it that this Human, the Martyr, left behind a sacred object known as the Rainbow Wing," the Dragonite broke in, undeterred. "This object was to be used to revive and summon a Legendary Pokémon, one that would be an extraordinary weapon in the hands of an individual they call the 'last heir' of the Martyr. This 'heir' would be the savior of the Ringed, one who would return freedom and harmony to all…or something banally predictable like that."

"I'm sure those tales have a lot of appeal for the Ringed masses," Corundum replied with a sigh. "But we all know there's no proven record of the Pokémon Trainers anywhere. And frankly, the idea of Humans enslaving Pokémon is absurd. No more than a ridiculous fantasy concocted by the Ringed Human factions."

"Whether it is fantasy or fact," Tiamat said, her intent gaze darkening into a glower, "the matter still remains that many of the Ringed believe it nonetheless. And the number of believers is growing rapidly. If an individual such as this legendary 'last heir' did appear, we could have an enormous revolt on our hands."

Her dark eyes smoldered at the thought. "When he was still alive," she went on, "Aeolus was a threat _because _he possessed something very powerful indeed. He had alleged proof that the Pokémon Trainers once walked this world. He had the remains of the legendary Rainbow Wing."

Corundum's face scrunched up in skepticism. "And some bits of feather and dust can incite rebellion?"

By this point, Tiamat's eyes had become mere pools of inky black, her leathery forehead a furrowed map of wrinkles. "As you've said, the legend of the last heir has _much _appeal to the Ringed," she replied delicately, expression clouded and unreadable. "Many even claim descent from the Pokémon Trainers and their Pokémon. And once a bond that tangible has been fixed in their stubborn little heads…"

She sighed again, growing tired of beating the subject. "The point is that the remains of the Rainbow Wing were _not _found with Aeolus's body. The Wing was taken beforehand by some unknown party."

"So we'll send someone out to find it. I have just the individual in mind."

"That is fortunate, Master Earthshaker," the Dragonite replied stiffly. "See that you do that. In the meantime, I have a small gift for you. Something which, if needed, will provide the perfect bait for this Wing snatcher. I've sent it from Midnight Mesa with a special messenger. Watch for it."

"Bait?" Corundum grumbled. "What do you mean by that?"

But the monitor screen blinked out before Tiamat had a chance to respond.

Suppressing a yawn, Corundum leaned back against the chair and rubbed his stony eyelids with a paw. He had enough to worry about already, what with it being Festival Week and all. Verdant Stadium would be holding special tournaments and events every single night, and, as Stadium Master, Corundum was expected to oversee each and every one of them. It was enough of a headache without having to get all riled up about some lunatic running around with a bunch of shiny feathers.

Forcing himself back to attention, Corundum checked the clock on the far wall, then reached for one of the many stacks of papers on his desk. He still had ten minutes before he had to meet the fire marshal to discuss new fireworks regulations. If he was lucky, he could review some of the vendor permit applications he'd been trying to finish before Tiamat's call had thrown everything off schedule…

"SURPRISE!"

Corundum bolted about a foot off his seat. "What the…!" the Tyranitar roared, extended paw dropping onto the chair arm. The shout was instantly followed by the strident blowing of a kazoo and the tossing of colored confetti.

"Happy Festival, Dad!" came a merry voice from in front of the open door.

Eyes darting downward, Corundum caught sight of a young Larvitar standing on the carpeted floor, a red kazoo in one paw and a handful of confetti in the other. Somehow, he had managed to ease open the door while Corundum had been distracted on the phone.

"Feldspar? What are you doing here? You could have at least knocked!" the Tyranitar informed his only child sternly.

As he flung the remainder of his confetti into Corundum's face, Feldspar grinned. "Aw, Dad! That's no fun!" he protested in a mock pout. "But don't you remember? I wrote you a letter just last week about how I was coming over today!"

Corundum did recall some kind of letter from Feldspar. It was still sitting next to his desk in a growing mound of yet-to-be opened mail. "Must have gotten lost by the Pidgey Express," the Stadium Master replied quickly. "Aren't you supposed to be in school at the Midnight Mesa?"

"We're on holiday for the Eight Days of Festival!" Feldspar explained happily. "Oh, gimme just a second! I need to go and get something…"

Corundum sighed as the Larvitar ducked back into the hallway. He quickly checked the clock again. Two minutes of precious time had already passed. Well, Feldspar always meant well, that much could be said. The little Larvitar was a good student, a spirited young Pokémon, and shaping up to be a decent successor to the title of Verdant Stadium Master. Still, Corundum could not help but feel burdened by his son's sudden arrival. His busy plans had not included catering to Feldspar, certainly not during the Stadium's most frenetic time of year.

"Oops! Sorry about that!" Feldspar's voice floated up from the hall. "Uh oh! Be careful with…!" There was a loud clatter as twenty some boxes all hit the floor at once.

Poking his head out the door, Corundum saw his son, as well as a silver-furred Eevee wearing a red ribbon, half-buried underneath a landslide of gaudily wrapped presents.

"Hi, Dad," Feldspar said sheepishly from under a golden package nearly as large as he was. "Sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up as soon as I…ouch!"

As the Larvitar struggled out from the pile, raining boxes in every direction, the little silver Eevee smacked him on the head. "Don't leave your stuff lying in the hall like that!" she scolded, shaking a paw at Feldspar. "Else someone could get really hurt. Someone like you, you, you!" She giggled, causing Feldspar to turn as red as a polished ruby.

"Hello, Himeka," Corundum wearily greeted the young Eevee Master. "Here to register your Ringed team in the match tonight?"

Himeka's grin illuminated every feature of her round little face. "Yep! You didn't think I'd forget, did you? Better not have! Better not, not, not!"

Though Himeka was infamous for forgetting to register until the last possible moment, Corundum didn't bother pointing this out. Her father Gruff Madison, after all, was the city's Chief of Security, Corundum's foremost colleague, and one of the richest Masters in the entire region. Gruff's little Eevee daughter had grown up with all sorts of toys and servants to carry out her every whim. Corundum had never thought it wise to raise children in this manner; Feldspar, for example, had never been allowed such pampering.

But when Himeka had gotten interested in the Ringed battling business several years ago, back when it had started to become a popular fad among the youngsters, Himeka's father had bought his daughter some of the best Ringed fighters in the entire region. Consequently, Himeka had quickly become one of most successful competitions at the Verdant Stadium, consistently winning battle after battle with a bare minimum of training. Rumor had it that all of the young Eevee's Ringed team were free to roam the city and practice at whim.

Himeka had always been immensely proud of her Ringed battlers. She made a point to enter every single competition at the Stadium. And despite the strain this must have put on Himeka's Ringed, they still usually managed to put on a good show.

Corundum had watched Himeka's Ringed many times in the arena before. One, a black-haired Human boy who went by the name of Cro, often made Corundum uneasy with his piercing stare and imperious disposition. That was another way in which Corundum disapproved of Himeka's loose training methods. Leave the Ringed to their own devices, and you never knew what they might be plotting.

Oh, sure, they were obedient enough. Most had to be, if they wanted to survive. But Ringed like Cro always stayed unnervingly aloof, never caring to form bonds with their superiors. They did not fight for their Masters out of love or loyalty, only to hone their own abilities until the time came to break away. And this obvious lack of devotion could not be worth even the sharpest fighting skills.

The Tyranitar figured Cro was one Ringed who would not remain satisfied with his condition much longer. If she had any sense at all, Himeka would have any fighters like that boy put down immediately.

Of course, the little Eevee was far too proud for that. Or perhaps Himeka was just plain thickheaded; Corundum wasn't really sure which.

"Just give us a minute," Corundum informed the Eevee, trying his best not to let his rapidly mounting irritation creep into his voice. "I need to have a small talk with my son." He waited for Feldspar to choose the appropriate presents before heading back into the office. Feldspar followed as best he could, staggering a bit under the weight of his boxes. Himeka padded in as well, even though she had clearly not been invited.

"Here's your Festival present, Dad!" Feldspar said proudly, standing on the tips of his paws and placing a box onto Corundum's desk. "I made them all by myself, and they're really good! Well, at least, I hope they are."

"I'm sure they're wonderful, Feldspar," Corundum assured his son. "But listen. While you were at school at the Midnight Mesa, did the Stadium Master there give you something to bring me?"

Feldspar nodded and stacked a second box on top of the first. This one was not wrapped in metallic paper and bore the official seal of the Midnight Mesa as its only decoration. Without a word, Corundum took the box and pried it open underneath his desk.

Inside was a long colorful feather resting atop a cushion of black velvet.

_This is supposed the perfect bait for the Rainbow Wing thief?_ Corundum mused, staring down at the iridescent piece of plumage. _Tiamat did say that Aeolus only possessed remnants of the Rainbow Wing._

A half-smile twisted the rocky features of Corundum's weathered face. _It seems that we have parts of the Wing as well._

"Open it!" Feldspar burst out eagerly. Himeka, who had been climbing onto the desk for a better look at the gift, lost her grip and fell off with a yelp.

Startled, Corundum looked down at his son. _Ah, of course._

Taking Feldspar's present in his claws, he ripped off the careful wrapping. "It's wonderful," the Tyranitar declared as a decorated metal tin was revealed. "Thanks, Feldspar. It's just what I needed. A wonderful little box. Extremely useful; I can keep my pens in it."

"Oh, Dad! That's just the tin!" Feldspar laughed. "The real present's inside!"

Corundum pulled off the lid and set it aside. The smell of fresh granite shavings filled his nostrils as he peered down. Homemade rock cookies filled the box to the brim, all cut into fanciful shapes such as stars and crescent moons. "Very nice," the Tyranitar said, moving to put the lid back on.

Feldspar beamed. "Go ahead and try one!" he urged. "I made sure not to put any burnt ones in."

"That's okay, son. I think I'll save them for tonight's dessert. And speaking of tonight…" Corundum pushed the cookie tin to the side of his desk. "Feldspar, the Eight Days of Festival is one of the busiest times of the year, especially for the Stadium. I'm afraid I won't be able to spend much time with you today. How about tomorrow? We can go to the park together; how about that?"

The Larvitar's usually bright face dimmed a notch or two. "Oh," Feldspar said, trying his best to hide his all-too-obvious disappointment. "It's nice of you to offer, Dad. But tomorrow I have to leave. Uncle Obsidian invited me to his Festival party and I promised I'd be there. Maybe…maybe I could just hang around with you tonight?"

Corundum chanced another glance at the clock. Now he had less than three minutes left before his meeting with the fire marshal. "Look, Feldspar," he said with as much kindly patience as he could muster, "I've got a Stadium to run, and, right now, I frankly can't handle any distractions. It's been wonderful to see you again, and I'm sorry that this had to come up. But look on the bright side." Corundum leaned forward and put a claw underneath his son's bowed chin. "You can use the extra time to study for your finals."

"Finals?" Feldspar repeated numbly.

"Yes, the school finals you're taking after holiday," Corundum replied. "Want to make sure you study hard and get good grades. Verdant City doesn't want an academy dropout as its next Stadium Master!"

At this comment, Feldspar's already glum face darkened even more. "I…I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Dad," the Larvitar gulped. "You see, I've been thinking a lot. And…well…" He gulped again, obviously floundering with how to finish the statement.

Only one minute left. Sighing, Corundum tore his gaze away from the clock and tried to smile encouragingly at his son. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Himeka carelessly smacking a stack of folders off the desk as she tried to reach for a cookie. "Let's talk about this some other time, Feldspar," Corundum said tryingly, wincing as the papers tumbled down in the background. The beginnings of a long-suppressed migraine were beginning to throb beneath the Tyranitar's temples. "Give you some time to think and…"

"No, I've thought about it!" Feldspar interjected hurriedly. "I've thought about it a lot! And after all that thinking, I decided that…well, maybe I _don't_ want to take over as the Verdant Stadium Master when I grow up."

Corundum's stony brow furrowed at his son's declaration. "You don't want to be Stadium Master?" he echoed incredulously. "You can't seriously be thinking that…"

"It's not just that I don't want to do it!" Feldspar babbled on, flailing his paws. "I don't think I'd…what I'm trying to say is…well, you know…I'm…er….just not the person for the job."

"Serving as Stadium Master is an extreme honor," Corundum replied edgily. "More than that, it's your duty." The pain in his head was coming in swift, unrelenting waves now. It was only exacerbated by the sound of the phone ringing in the background, accompanied by the crash of Himeka knocking over a half-filled mug of coffee as she scurried back towards the door. "You know there is _no _other person for the job, Feldspar," the Tyranitar growled, the irritation he'd worked so hard to conceal finally seeping into his voice. "Please don't argue with me."

"But Dad, you know how I feel about those Stadium matches!" Feldspar whined in protest. "And I was thinking of…oh, I don't know exactly what I want to be yet…but…but being a Stadium Master, I know for sure that's _definitely _not what I want to do, and I don't see why you keep forcing me to…"

The last of Corundum's reserves of patience finally wore through. "Enough!" the Tyranitar snapped, slamming his hefty paws into the desk. One made a large crack in wooden surface. The other sent Feldspar's metal tin of cookies crashing against the wall. "Do _not _argue with me, Feldspar!" the Tyranitar roared, black eyes blazing. "YOU are going to become the Verdant Stadium Master whether you like it or not! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Dad," Feldspar muttered, avoiding both Corundum's gaze and the sight of the spilled cookies.

"What was that?" his father barked.

"Yes, sir!" the Larvitar blurted out.

"Thank you, Feldspar. You may go now."

As Feldspar trudged dejectedly out of the office, Himeka pranced forward from her hiding place by the door. "Are you really, really the Stadium Master's son?" she asked the Larvitar, eyes wide in innocent curiosity. "I didn't even know he had a son! Really, really!"

Feldspar didn't look up.

Making a face at the retreating Larvitar, Himeka scampered back, large black eyes now turning to the tin by the wall. Her petite paw eagerly scooped up one of the rock cookies that had fallen out. Smacking her lips in relish, the Eevee chomped down on the treat's corner.

And dropped it a split-second later, howling and clutching at her mouth in agony.


	10. The Master's Son

Chapter Nine

**The Master's Son**

* * *

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, suffusing the sky with crimson, by the time Feldspar reached the train station. He could have been there a lot faster, if not for the gritty tears that blurred his vision and the sadness that made his steps drag.

"It's not Dad's fault if he can't have me around," the Larvitar repeated fiercely to himself. "He's busy. Gah! He's _always_ busy. But the Stadium Master thing was important to me! He should've given me a chance to explain! I mean, couldn't he have at least listened instead of jumping in and…and…"

An insistent grumble made Feldspar put a paw on his empty stomach. "Guess I should probably eat before I leave," the Larvitar sighed, wincing as a second growl issued from his belly. Looking resignedly around, he headed for a candy vendor hawking his wares beside the sidewalk.

Five minutes later, Feldspar had a box of Pink PokéBlock nestled in his paws. Stuffing one of the sweet cubes into his mouth, the Larvitar wandered down the walkway, searching for a spot to finish his meal. Not too far away, there was a bench overlooking the Verdant Stadium. Unfortunately, somebody was already sitting on it.

Closing the distance in a jog, Feldspar made out the bowed head of a Human girl. She was dressed in a simple, sleeveless white shirt and had wisps of unkempt hair falling over her forehead. And from where Feldspar was standing, he could see the blue ring encircling the girl's neck. She was probably the Ringed servant of some wealthy Master, he reasoned. Corundum would have warned his son not to interfere, but the girl looked so sad that Feldspar couldn't help but jump onto the bench beside her.

"Hi!" the Larvitar said. "You don't happen to be hungry, do you?"

The young girl mumbled an answer so soft that Feldspar couldn't hope to make it out. Her fragile hands shifted in her lap, the Larvitar noticed instead, and her head sunk down lower than ever.

"Here, have some." Smiling, Feldspar pushed the cardboard carton of candy in the girl's direction. "They're really good. Taste just like marble chips, only lots sweeter!"

This time, the girl's head slowly rose an inch. "Never had marble chips," she said quietly. She extended a bony finger and nudged the PokéBlock back towards Feldspar. "You can have 'em. I'm not very hungry."

"Neither am I!" Feldspar fibbed. "And you're not gonna make me eat all of this by myself, are you…er…what's your name, by the way?"

At last, the girl looked up, a tremulous smile flickering onto her face. "Eppie."

"I'm Feldspar. Shake?"

Nodding, Eppie took Feldspar's paw. The Larvitar shook vigorously, a grin illuminating his rocky features. "Do you live here in Verdant? Me, I'm from the Midnight Mesa…well, that's where I go to boarding school, anyway. But I've been there for so long, it kind of feels like home!"

"You came here to…see the battles at the Stadium?" Eppie asked, lowering her face again. A tear trickled down her cheek and fell onto her folded hands.

"Oh, no way! Not in a million years!" Feldspar yelped in response, shaking his head violently. "I don't want anything to do with those! Making Ringed Pokémon and Humans cut each other to threads with those scary swords and claws…I mean, how uncivilized can you get?! Honestly, I'd rather stay at school than come out here to watch a bunch of Ringed bleed to death! You're probably thinking I'm all squeamish and sentimental, but that's how I feel! I'm not going to change my mind about those battles, not for anything or anyone!"

_Even, _Feldspar fumed to himself, _for you, Dad._

When Eppie's voice came again, it was barely more than a whisper. "My big brother's a Ringed. He's fighting in a battle now."

Feldspar resisted the urge to kick himself in the head, settling instead for a disgusted mental chastisement. _Way to go, Feldspar Earthshaker! Like Dad always said, your lack of tact's gonna get you killed someday! _

"Heh, um, excuse my big mouth; it's not like I know anything about Stadium matches!" the Larvitar said hastily, forcing a giggle. "I mean, I don't even go to them! I don't have the right to judge anything…even though I sometimes get all riled up anyway. But that's because I…well, what I mean is…gah!"

Clamping his jaws together before he could blurt out any more inane blabber, Feldspar gulped, then took a deep breath. "Sorry. Just ignore me," he said, nodding his head forcefully. "Yep, I'm just crazy."

"S'okay," Eppie replied with a half-hearted giggle, still averting her gaze from the abashed Larvitar. "Everybody's a little crazy. Or else, people think they are."

"You look sane enough to me."

Another tear fell soundlessly into Eppie's lap. "Thanks for being nice," she answered with a strained smile. "But, sometimes, I think I'm not. Not sane. It makes my big brother mad, when I try and do the things I think are right. Only…only, they can't be right. Not if he gets mad at me." Two more tears plopped down, one after the other. A stray breeze blew the salty droplets away, splattering them onto Feldspar's horn.

"I don't want him to be mad," Eppie went on, head hanging ashamedly. "If he tries to battle when he's mad, he won't be able to concentrate. He'll get hurt. I don't want him to get hurt, Feldspar."

The Larvitar nodded his agreement. "You've talked to him, right?"

"Sometimes." Eppie's fingers tightened, gripping the flesh of her thighs. "Sometimes I try explaining my dreams and Epiphany. But that just makes him mad. A long time ago, he used to listen to me, but that was before Epiphany came. Cro doesn't believe in Epiphany, so he doesn't believe me."

Feldspar stared into space for a moment, scratching his stubby horn in confusion. "You know what I think, Eppie?" he said at last, filling his voice with firm resolve. "This guy, Cro, he's your brother, right? Then he's family, and family's got to be one of the strongest bonds you can have with someone. 'Cause no matter what, he's your brother. And _he_ can't shake the fact that _you're_ his sister." The Larvitar looked to Eppie for acknowledgement. Receiving a little bob of a nod, he went on.

"So…I say you might as well try again to explain how you feel. If he doesn't understand and gets mad, just keep on trying. After a while, being mad will wear off. And maybe then, _he'll_ try to get what _you've_ been trying to say."

Feldspar took in a huge gulp of air before rushing animatedly on. "The important thing is that you can't back out! Else you're just making life miserable for yourself, which'll probably make life miserable for him, too. Just hang in there and don't let that brother of yours shake you. You're not doing it to make him angry. You're doing it so you and him can finally see eye to eye –to make things happier for both of you!"

As his small speech wound down at last, Feldspar found himself panting slightly and flushed from the effort. "Heh," he laughed weakly, lowering the paws he had been gesticulating wildly with moments before. "There I go again, talking my head off! You must think I'm a real boulder-brain, spouting off all that silly, trite…"

He stopped short, realizing that Eppie was looking at him. The girl's large amber eyes shone in the middle of her face, tinged a glittering red from crying.

Feldspar gulped, then tried to laugh off his comments once more. "Don't listen to what I said. I couldn' shut up even if I want to!" he blurted. "See, even now I'm having trouble trying to…!"

The rambling Larvitar was cut off again, this time for good. To Feldspar's uttermost surprise, Eppie had bent down and flung her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing the Pokémon on the forehead.

"Hey, where're you going!" Feldspar called out as Eppie leapt off the bench.

This girl bore little resemblance to the one Feldspar had first tried to cheer up. Despite the same crudely cut clothes and grubby countenance as before, this Eppie was bursting with renewed energy. Her face was suffused with a radiant smile, and her amber eyes sparkled not with tears, but grateful joy.

"Back to the Stadium," she told the anxious Larvitar. "Thanks for helping me, Feldspar!"

Her step was light as she strode across the road and towards the great marble building, as if Feldspar's words had lifted a sizeable burden from her skinny shoulders.

Puzzled, Feldspar slid down as well. All thoughts of the candy tray still on the bench were forgotten as he stood there, staring at Eppie's retreating form. "She makes it seem so easy," Feldspar muttered wistfully. "Heck, I've spent my entire life trying to take my own advice. All she had to do was hear it once."

Still shaking his head, Feldspar tore his gaze away from the distant Stadium. He had to go back there as well, he realized with a pang. He'd left his presents from before in Corundum's hallway.

_Is Dad's having a fit about those?_ the Larvitar thought gloomily. _Nah, Dad wouldn't get angry about a couple of boxes in the hall; he's probably already gotten someone to take them to the train._

_He's pretty great, when you come right down to it. A great father, who just wants me to do what he thinks best. But I know I'll make a lousy Stadium Master. Dad doesn't seem to realize that…or maybe just doesn't want to. And how the heck am I supposed to change his mind?_

The words Feldspar had spoken to Eppie circled back now, echoing in his head. _The important thing is you can't back out! Else you're just making life miserable for yourself, which'll probably make life miserable for him, too. _

"What do I know about anything, anyway?" Feldspar asked himself disgustedly. "Nothing, that's what! Honestly, what's the point of sticking around here?"

Sighing, the young Larvitar started trudging down the sidewalk towards the Magnet Train Station. It was getting late, and Feldspar had an obligation to keep to Uncle Obsidian. A pebble he booted out of the path went flying over his head, back in the direction of the Verdant Stadium.

Feldspar kept on kicking the small rocks from the cement, forcing himself not to look back. But for some reason, the little pieces of gravel all seemed to follow the same backward arch as the first.

* * *

Even in his secluded office, Corundum could hear the chants of the crowd awaiting the first Stadium match of the evening. Filing away the last bit of paperwork, the Tyranitar made to shut his desk drawer. The oblong black box from Tiamat was still nestled there, half-hidden by a stack of papers and a box of paperclips.

Corundum extended one claw and flipped the box open. The iridescent feather glimmered back up at him, sparking even in the dim light of approaching night. Snapping the lid back in place, Corundum reached for the phone hooked up to the monitor. Something he saw on the desk, however, stopped him.

One of the cookies from Feldspar's overflowing tin had fallen onto the desk's surface. Grasping it delicately between his claws, Corundum examined the dessert carefully before taking a small bite from the corner.

It was overly gritty and cloyingly sweet, but Corundum forced himself to finish it all. He supposed he'd have to eat the rest of Feldspar's cookies, too, all the ones that he had salvaged after Himeka had run yowling out of the office. After all, they were his son's Festival present. But on second thought, he should just throw out the entire lot. Feldspar would never know, and what he didn't know surely couldn't hurt him.

Swallowing the last of the horrible cookie, Corundum picked up the phone and dialed his last number for the day.

"What d'ya want?" demanded a coarse, scratchy-sounding voice from the other end of the line. Corundum smiled amusedly to see that the speaker kept himself well out of the monitor's viewing range.

"I have a job for you, Allegard," the Stadium Master started. "This one may be rather difficult, but I'm willing to pay the price."

"A challenge, huh?" the voice said mockingly. "Keep talkin,' Master Corundum. Null Allegard's listenin.' "


	11. Crawling in the Dark

Chapter Ten

**Crawling in the Dark**

* * *

Huddled in the corner of a courtyard alcove, Lynn rubbed her palms together in a futile attempt to keep warm. A chilly blast of wind shot through one of the arched windows, turning the stones beneath Lynn's bare feet into what felt like ice.

"Listen," Cro had said what seemed like hours before. "Spark and I've got a match to fight. You stay here until we get back. Got it?"

Lynn had nodded meekly at the time, but as she shivered against these hard rocks, she was fully regretting her choice. The Rainbow Wing pressed against the back of her shirt pocket, its metal surface tinged frost cold from the icy evening air. She didn't dare to take it out, for fear of dropping it in the rapidly darkening courtyard.

Wondering if she should show the Wing to Cro and Spark when they returned, the former forest girl readjusted her position with a wince. She'd been sitting still for so long that even the mot miniscule movements flooded her limbs with pins-and-needles.

Before Cro and Sparkacus had dashed off for their big battle, Lynn had considered telling them Mother Woodwort's story about the last heir and the bird of the seven rainbow feathers. She was almost positive that these two were the ones that Aeolus the Fearow had sent her to find. If she could pry just a bit more information from them, Lynn hoped that everything would fit together at last: the legend of the last heir, the Rainbow Wing, Aeolus' cryptic instructions, and all the other mysteries that currently overwhelmed her.

But still, she had held back. Sparkacus was still trying to be kind, but both the Pikachu and Cro still unnerved her. Not to mention that nearly everything about this city made Lynn dizzy just by remembering.

Pokémon like Sparkacus _shouldn't_ be able to talk. Lynn had sometimes supposed that the rearranged syllables they often uttered could be some kind of language. But before setting off on her coming-of-age journey, the idea of Pokémon using Human speech, or acting in any kind of Human role, had been absolutely absurd. Now every time she heard Sparkacus speak in that clipped, clear voice, Lynn received yet another unpleasant jolt: her knowledge of the world outside Verdant Forest was riddled with nasty, gaping holes.

_Whatever happened to the other people who left for their own coming-of-age journeys?_ Lynn mused, hugging her knees to her chin. _Did they wander into places like Verdant City, too, just as confused as me?_

_None of the other forest children ever came back to the forest. They never told us anything about the outside world._

And as she sat there, chin resting on her kneecaps and jaw tightening, Lynn made a promise to herself. _If I ever get out of this, I should go back to Verdant Forest myself. The others have a right to know what's in store for them once they turn ten. I had the right to know what would be in store for me._

Pressing further back into the snug alcove, Lynn gulped. She still had no idea why none of the other children had ever returned to the forest. And all the grim possibilities now rushing through her head weren't exactly reassuring. Determinedly shaking these thoughts from her mind, Lynn pushed herself even deeper between the rocks.

And was stopped by something else pushing back against _her_.

Jerking about in alarm, Lynn fell into a crouch. As she tore away, however, a pair of muffled thuds sounded from where she'd been leaning just seconds before. For a moment, Lynn froze in position, listening intently for any more noises. When there were none, she crawled tentatively forward and squinted through the shadows.

Two large burlap bags were laying on the floor of the alcove. They must have been resting in the back all along, becoming dislodged when Lynn bumped up against them. One of the bags had not been tied shut, and some of its contents were rolling about on the dark ground.

Groping forward, Lynn picked up a handful of smooth, round objects. Some of them had cracked open upon impact, filling the air with the pungent, easily recognizable scent of rotting Apricorns.

Lynn's nose wrinkled in a mixture of disdain and surprise. Curiosity piqued, she dragged both bags back into the open courtyard, where they were more visible.

Without a doubt, the first bag was filled with spoiled Apricorns. Lynn shifted through the ones she had scooped up from the ground and made out a variety of colors: blue, black, white, pink, and so forth. But why would someone go to all the trouble of collecting so many Apricorns just to let them fill with rot?

Lynn's mind flashed back to the boy with the baggy clothes, the one who had been gathering Apricorns in the grove just this morning. _He_ hadn't known Apricorns could be used as food. _But what else CAN you use them for?_ Lynn wondered as she shoved the spilled Apricorns back into their bag.

Perhaps the second bag held the answer.

Lynn hovered over the other sack for a good five minutes before her curiosity got the better of her conscience. Feeling guilty, she undid the knot with numb fingers and reached quickly inside.

_More Apricorns?_ Lynn thought bemusedly as she brought one of the smooth spheres to the light. _What?_

Though the object in her hand had the same round shape and polished surface of an Apricorn shell, it bore no other resemblance.

All the color the object must have had as an Apricorn had been burnt away, leaving only a silvery-white surface accented with strange marks. Someone had also used a knife to separate the shell into two halves and fastened on a small hinge to hold them together. As Lynn peered more closely at the refined shell, she made out a silver button on one side. Tapping it under her thumb caused the shell to shrink to about a fourth of its original size.

_Well, this is no Apricorn,_ Lynn thought confusedly, pressing the button again, which made the sphere expand. _What on earth…?_

"Oh no. Looks like somebody's been rather sneaky," an unfamiliar voice rang nonchalantly from above.

Startled, Lynn shoved the strange Apricorn back into the bag and made to tie the sack closed again.

A blow to the back of her head landed her flat on the ground. Head swimming, Lynn struggled to rise again. Problem was, someone had already planted their foot firmly against her back.

* * *

The streets were deserted by the time Null Allegard stepped into town. Glancing dispassionately at the darkening evening sky, Null hiked up several layers of heavy clothing to muffle his face. The night breeze was a bit nippy, and there was a peculiar smell floating in it as well. It reminded Null of rain-washed dirt and pungent pinesap, tinged with traces of fresh smoke.

Null's nose wrinkled and, despite all his thick clothes, he shivered.

He'd always hated the smell of smoke.

Blaming it on yesterday's rain and the newly lit Festival bonfires, the fleet-footed Human child trotted briskly down the empty sidewalk. In the distance, the lights of the Verdant Stadium swung in white arcs across the sky. Most everybody would be at the Stadium by now, watching teams of Ringed battle their way to the top.

Null, of course, had better things to do than dally around in a stand of bleachers. Stadium Master Corundum's phone call, for one, had provided him with an intriguing new challenge.

"I gotta find a bunch a' big sparkly feathers, huh?" Null had remarked before. "You wanna make a boa or somethin'?"

"Not _just_ feathers!" Corundum had barked back. "I want you to find the _Rainbow Wing_. Preferably before another idiot picks it up and starts waving it around," he had grumbled almost inaudibly to himself.

Null's sharp ears had picked up that last comment with interest. He had heard whispered snatches about the Rainbow Wing before, among a couple of the more confidential Master circles. Some Ringed-loving extremist from Verdant, a Fearow by chance, had supposedly picked the Wing up and had been headed for refuge in the Citrus Archipelago. But if Corundum was asking for Null to find the Rainbow Wing now, the strange artifact had probably changed hands.

And Null had a couple ideas of who it might have switched over to.

There were a couple guards at the Stadium's entrances. Null slipped by a dozing Typhlosion before the Pokémon's companions had a chance to glance in his direction. Once through the arch, Null made a speedy turn and ducked down a nearby set of stairs.

The passages underneath the Stadium ducked and wove around with all the consistency of a writhing Ekans, but Null had been down here enough times to navigate efficiently. Pinpointing a second stairway only minutes later, the agile Human took the steps two at a time, hands hunting for the metal surface of a trapdoor. Finding it at last, Null heaved the door upward, skinny limbs straining with the weight.

With a rusted groan, the trapdoor gave way. Sighing in relief, Null scrambled into the cool air of the Stadium's secluded practice yard. There would be no one here tonight; all the Ringed were sure to be participating in the big matches down at the Stadium or working hard in town to prepare for the upcoming Festival tournament.

In theory.

"And what brings you here at this time of night?" rose an amused voice from the shadows.

Unpleasantly surprised, Null nearly shot back down the stairs. And really, it was only a stubborn need to maintain his trademark poise that kept him from fleeing.

"Jus' lookin' for a friend," Null shot back with as much casualness as he could muster. "Ole' Cro don't happen t' be 'round, do he?"

"He's fighting at the Stadium," the voice replied. "Need me to take a message?"

"Who're you?"

A sharp wind shooed the clouds away from the pale white moon, bathing the courtyard in muted lights. At the opposite corner was a teenage girl sitting cross-legged on a mound of burlap sacks. In the dimness, her only noticeable feature was the long, prematurely-white hair curling down from her ponytail. Her dark skin stood out against the lighter, coarse fabric of her clothes, as did the makeshift staff in her hands and the fluorescent orange Ring around her neck.

"Name's Valkyrie Lark."

Null sneered at this. This stuck-up Ringed girl sure put on airs, giving herself a last name in addition to her overly exotic first. There was no way her Master would actually call her that; whoever they were probably had trouble remembering just the far-too-ostentatious first part.

"You must be Null Allegard," Lark said evenly. "Cro's mentioned you before." She gave the sacks she was sitting on a small pat for emphasis. "We must have hundreds of color nuts by now, and the designs you've supplied have been pretty helpful. Keep up the good work."

"As long as Cro keeps me up-t'-date on th' Ringed bettin' scene, I'm happy t' oblige," Null said. "Fact, that's what I gotta talk t' him 'bout now. I'll come back when he's not busy."

Lark nodded, but did not budge from her position. For a moment, Null lingered, trying to see exactly what she was sitting on. Those sacks did bulge quite a bit for _just_ color nuts. If, in fact, that was what they really held.

"Maybe you can catch Cro while he's coming out of the Stadium," Lark said sweetly, just the tiniest edge of steel creeping into her voice. "You'd ought to hurry. I think his match is ending soon."

Null took the hint. "Later."

But as the trapdoor slammed shut above, Null made a face and blew a wet raspberry. Cro and his cohorts were hiding something, all right. It was clear that Null would have to come back later to do some more snooping. And said snooping would have to be done extremely unobtrusively, so as not to attract any more suspicion. Hopefully, it would be worth the extra effort.

_You're Verdant biggest Ringed rabble-rouser, Cro,_ Null thought. _Don't disappoint me. If anyone wants their mitts on the Rainbow Wing, it's got to be you._

* * *

As Null exited the courtyard through the trapdoor, Lark heaved a sigh of relief. Shifting the weight of her staff into one hand, the Ringed girl sprang to her feet and kicked the burlap sacks off the prostrate form they had concealed.

Gasping loudly, Lynn raised her throbbing face and filled her lungs with frigid air. Lark's wide-set blue eyes filled her vision a split-second later; extending a dark-skinned hand, the older girl helped Lynn onto her feet.

"Sorry I had to do that," Lark apologized. "But Allegard's an Arbok in the grass, no question. We put up with him because he's the only one who'll bring us certain…items…we need."

Holding an arm over her bruised ribs, Lynn managed a weak, wheezing cough. "I-I think I've met him before," she choked. "On my way here. H-he was picking Apricorns…color nuts…in the forest."

Lark's nose wrinkled at this. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a lock of hair from between her eyes back over her shoulder. "You're going to have to tell us your story at the meeting tonight," she informed Lynn. "Oh, and sorry I whacked you on the head. Cro _did_ tell me you were here. He wanted me to come over and check up on you as soon as my shift ended. But when I saw you peeking at our stuff, my old anti-intruder reflexes just kicked right in." She punched the air to accentuate her point.

Lynn rubbed the bump on her head in a grimacing recollection. "Like how you hid me from Null?"

"Exactly. But, hey, you're nowhere near as shifty as Allegard. Besides, if Cro hasn't cut you to pieces yet, you're probably not that bad. Right?" She prodded Lynn teasingly with the butt of her staff. Lynn, for her part, grimaced. Lark had jabbed her right where Lynn's ribs had been crushed against the ground before.

"A meeting?" Lynn asked faintly, massaging her sore sides. "What kind of meeting?"

"You'll see soon enough," Lark answered with a wink. "Now help me put these bags away. We have to get things ready before the others arrive."


	12. Fighting With Fire

Chapter Eleven

**Fighting With Fire**

* * *

"Clearwater's Nidoking is unable to battle! The match goes to Cody Ferris!"

The clang of a bell pierced the air above the arena, signaling the assembled audience to break into raucous cheers and deafening applause.

From the bench in the wings of the Stadium, Cro clenched his fists and rose to his feet. A tug on his arm forced him to sit back down.

"Don't get up yet!" came the shrill voice of Himeka the Eevee, Cro's young Master. "We aren't supposed to go out until the other team comes back in! Remember, 'member, 'member? Now sit down, down, down or you'll make me look bad!"

_Okay, okay, OKAY! _Cro wanted to shout back. As it was, all he could do was obey silently. Sparkacus, seeing its teammate's surly-looking face, ambled over and placed a paw on Cro's arm.

"We'll be out there soon enough," the Pikachu reassured him calmly.

Himeka's high-pitched cry broke in once again. "Hey, hey, hey! No talking before the match!"

"As you wish, Master," Cro muttered underneath his breath. Sparkacus gave the boy a nudge, as if to remind him of his manners, before retreating back to the other side of the bench. Over there, Cro could see the Ringed Pikachu nodding absentmindedly at an indignant Himeka, before moving down to where Candledandel, a pudgy Ringed boy of no more than eight years, was perched.

Brimming with anger, Cro watched Sparkacus making whispered, easy conversation with the young Human, Himeka never once bending over to chastise them. Candledandel, or Dandy as Himeka fondly called him, was the Eevee Master's current pet among the Ringed. He was also too slow and stupid to last his own in even a single round, yet it was a matter of pride for Himeka to send Dandy out in every Stadium battle she entered. The little boy would be knocked unconscious after two seconds in the arena, which, in the case of a three-on-three match, meant the remaining two Ringed had to work extra hard to defeat the additional opponent.

Cro was usually one of those two Ringed, but that wasn't the only reason he disliked the younger boy. From his wide blank eyes to his exceedingly docile manner, Dandy was the perfect picture of subservience. There was no question why Himeka favored Dandy above all of the other Ringed. He followed the Eevee around like a fawning little Mareep calf. To Cro, who'd spent his entire life yearning to prove Ringed equal to, if not better, than Masters, Dandy's behavior was revolting.

_How can you just talk to him like that, Spark? _Cro wondered, still glancing over at the lean Pikachu. _If there's one thing worse than a Master, it's a Ringed who _enjoys_ being a slave to one. As the Pokémon Trainers, _we_ were the real masters. _They_were the traitors, the ones who turned and beat us down to this. _They_have no right to call themselves 'Masters,' and before I die, they're going to eat their stolen title piece by stinking piece. _

_I'll make sure of it. I know I will._

_Because _I _am the last heir, descendant of the Martyr. Descendant of the Martyr, summoner of Ho-Oh, and the foretold savior of the Ringed. _

_Aren't I?_

For long as Cro could remember, he'd been certain that the path of last heir was his own destiny. Sure, there'd been fanatics in the past who had claimed the exact same thing. Cro's knowledge on the topic was meticulously detailed, and he could readily name a number of unsuccessful Ringed revolts led in name of the Martyr. But all those so-called messiahs were fakes. Some were even Pokémon, which anyone could've seen was impossible, since the Martyr's descendant most definitely had to be a Human.

From the alleged reports of the Martyr, Cro knew that they already shared an uncanny likeness. Both he and the Martyr had the same unruly black hair and eyes dark as Murkrow wings, not to mention equally stubborn dispositions.

But most importantly of all, Cro was different. He had proof of his identity.

Though Cro had few recollections of his long-ago past, his earliest memories were of a beautiful rainbow feather, given to him by persons or Pokémon unknown. For all of the seventeen or eighteen years (he couldn't be sure of the exact number) of his life, he'd obsessively hidden that feather from prying eyes. He'd never even shown it to his fellow Ringed, for the fear that it might be stolen.

He still had it now, of course, hidden close by. Cro knew, without a doubt, that this feather belonged to the Martyr's ally, the legendary Ho-Oh. The bird of the seven feathers had endowed Cro with its gift, marking him as the rightful heir to its cataclysmic powers.

_He_ had been given the Rainbow Wing, for what else could that feather possibly be? There should be no doubt that Cro had been _chosen_ by the fates. He, and he alone, had the power to summon Ho-Oh.

Cro _had_ to be the last heir.

For as long as he could remember, Cro had stubbornly built his life up around that one purpose, never once thinking that he could be wrong. It would have been suicide to doubt himself even once, after putting so much of himself into believing.

But what was that Eppie had said in the courtyard?

"Epiphany told me before that, today, the last heir will finally arrive."

_In other words, _she had been telling him, _t__he last heir isn't you._

Cro usually endured most of Eppie's strange words and habits. He hadn't meant to blow up over her bringing that stray girl, Lynn, into the Stadium. Cro just lost his temper sometimes, and once it was gone, it took quite an effort to reign back in. He _was _working on better control. But what Eppie had said about the last heir would be enough to drive even the most stoic version of Cro out of line.

Which was why, he supposed, he'd turned so much hate onto that new girl, Lynn. The supposedly "real" last heir.

Lynn seemed quiet, like Eppie, but her silence wasn't one of peaceful contemplation. It was fearful and filled with confused resent. Comparing Eppie to her was like holding a ray of sun next to a hulking storm cloud. While you'd often find a pleasant smile stretching Eppie's fragile, innocent face, that Lynn seemed to wear a perpetual furrow between her brows.

_Eppie, _Cro thought to himself. _This time you're even more wrong than usual. That scared, ignorant girl CAN'T be the last heir! If we count on her to save us, we'll all be doomed. For Martyr's sake, how hard can it be to see that! Even for you?_

Of course, Cro knew he shouldn't blame Eppie. Eppie was a sweet, well-meaning girl who wouldn't dream of hurting a stray Weedle. And she hadn't always been so...what was the right word?

Eccentric?

Flaky?

Obsessed with an _imaginary_ friend who seemed to constantly lead her into danger?

There _was_ a time when Eppie had been the one Cro relied on, instead of the other way around. But that was in the past. Things were different now, and as much as he missed the old Eppie, Cro knew it'd be a waste of time hoping for her to return. The time to act against the Masters was rapidly approaching; Cro could feel it. Last heir or not, he couldn't afford to wait around for anyone, not Eppie or Lynn or some supposed other last heir. Not anymore.

"Hey, hey!" A sharp nudge in the shoulder snapped Cro out of his thoughts. "The announcer just called my name! We're going into the arena now, now, now!"

Soundlessly, Cro rose to his feet. Himeka bounded off the bench and shoved past him, bouncing gleefully with excitement. Cro did not say anything as the Eevee trod over his bare foot, but one of his hands curled into a white-knuckled fist.

_Soon, _he told himself reassuringly. _Me and the others will make our move soon enough._

"And you guys better win, win, win 'kay?" Himeka's shrill voice rang in front of him. "Do whatever it takes! It's _important_!"

"Anything for you," Cro said with a mock bow.

_It'd better be soon. I don't know how much more of this I can take._

* * *

Ears flattening against the back of its head, Sparkacus hurled a luminous bolt of lightning across the arena. From where he sat on the sideline bench, Cro's body tensed for his Pikachu teammate.

The match was tied two-for-two, and Sparkacus wasn't exactly doing well. As predicted, Himeka had sent out her pet Ringed, Candledandel, for the first round. Dandy hadn't lasted a minute on the field, leaving Spark to clean up most of that battle in addition to this one. By this point in the match, the Pikachu's lean sides were heaving, its yellow fur matted dark with sweat.

Cro's eyes darted about, following Sparkacus's Thunderbolt as it went spinning past. Seconds before the attack contacted, a translucent indigo barrier fizzled up before it. The lightning streamed over the dome, deflecting harmlessly off its surface and disappearing into the ground below.

Sparkacus' cheeks sparked in frustration; the Pikachu had run out of electricity.

Beneath the curved purple wall, the serene face of a slender Human boy was thrust unseeingly towards the ceiling. The dark-haired Ringed, called Xander, often competed at the Verdant Stadium. Seated in a cross-legged position, and eyes closed in concentration, he also always hovered a good three feet above the floor, the tip of his thin black braid nearly scraping the ground.

Panting, Sparkacus sized up its Human opponent more slowly. Cro's fingers itched to grasp the hilt of his sword.

Human Psychics like Xander were rare and a notoriously difficult foe to best, making them all the more valuable to their Masters. Cro would have readily gone in place of his exhausted comrade. But Himeka was the Master, and Himeka was too proud or dense to switch a new Ringed in before the current one had fainted.

"C'mon, Spark!" Cro yelled to his teammate, leaping to his feet.

Himeka swatted him irritably on the knee with her tail. "Sit down!"

Cro ignored the Eevee. "You can win this!" he called out, before Himeka's repeated slaps forced him to take a seat.

Without warning, Xander's piercing golden eyes shot open from beneath long overhanging strands of black hair. A beam of psychic power rocketed from his upturned palms, mirroring the swiftness of the boy's earlier movement. Sparkacus dropped onto its stomach, just as Xander's attack blasted a crater in the center of the arena.

"An impressive display of Psychic abilities by Phillips's young Ringed!" the announcer, an elderly Venusaur at the far end of the stands, declared. "I don't think Himeka Madison's Pikachu made it through that one."

A thick cloud of dust filled the packed Stadium, and murmurs of anticipation rippled through the Humans and Pokémon assembled in the bleachers. Himeka gave a squeal of indignation, and leapt onto the tips of her paws to see the outcome of the attack.

_C'mon, _Cro thought fiercely. _C'mon, Spark._

As the dust settled, a streaking yellow form could be seen darting across the arena. Golden gaze unblinking, Xander extended his hands and shot several more blasts of psychic energy at his Pikachu opponent. Sparkacus, putting on one of its last spurts of energy, dodged each one.

"Don't let that rat get the best of you!" Xander's adolescent Human Master yelled, clenching his fists. "C'mon! Aim and fire!"

A frown finally beginning to mar Xander's sallow face, the psychic Ringed released another attack. Again, Sparkacus jumped swiftly out of range. The psychic beam went streaking past its target, hitting the marble side of the arena. It rebounded off and hit Xander squarely in the stomach.

Groaning, the psychic boy doubled up in pain. The indigo psychic aura around him vanished in a sharp crackle. Before the boy's Master could call out another command, Xander thudded onto the floor of the arena.

"And the psychic Ringed is down!" the announcer boomed as a squad of medics ran out to retrieve Xander's unconscious body. "Rhys Phillips will have to choose his last Ringed carefully if he still hopes to win thismatch."

Rhys, a tousled-haired Human boy in a wrinkled windbreaker, tightened his jaw. Cro saw the young Master retreat momentarily to the sidelines. He returned to the arena shortly, followed by a muscular equine Pokémon.

"It looks like Master Phillips will be sending out Bucephalus the Rapidash!" the announcer cried as Rhys's new Ringed galloped forward, iron-hot hooves kicking up sprays of sawdust. From the center of the Stadium, Sparkacus eyed its fresh opponent with apprehension.

"Switch someone else into the match," Cro told Himeka. "Spark's taken down two opponents already. It can't last much longer."

Himeka screwed up her button black nose at Cro's suggestion. " 'Scuse me?" the Eevee said, rolling her eyes. "_I _know what I'm doing. _You_ don't, don't, don't!"

Out on the battlefield, Bucephalus had already charged in a headlong Take Down. A sharp smack sounded through the Stadium, and Sparkacus's body went flying into the air.

"Hey, hey!" Himeka cried angrily as the Ringed Pikachu fell and skid limply through the sawdust. "My Ringed wasn't ready, and you just went and attacked it anyway! That was mean, mean, mean!"

Cro slammed his fist against the seat of the bleachers in disgust. There was something else he wanted to slam that fist against: Himeka's round, angelic face.

Tantrum winding down at last, the Eevee pointed a glossy paw in Cro's direction. "You next!" she ordered in exasperation. "And you'd better WIN, WIN, _WIN_!"

Cro moved out before Himeka had time to give him a sharp shove. Head high and back stiff, he strode towards the arena. Like a _real_ master, not one of those sniveling phonies piled into the bleacher stands.

Like a Pokémon Trainer going off to battle.

He could feel Bucephalus' blazing eyes zoning onto his face and smell the hot smoke the Rapidash snorted from its nostrils. Deliberately inhaling the smoke, Cro set his jaw and stepped into the arena.

A cheer and scattered bits of applause rang out here and there, but Cro paid them no mind. Someone handed him a sword and a fireproof shield. Cro accepted them wordlessly and took up position across from his opponent. At the far end of the arena, he could see Sparkacus's small body being carted off to the sidelines.

"Both Phillips and Madison are down to their last Ringed," the announcer called out. Rhys nodded grimly; Himeka let loose a high-pitched squeal. "Battlers ready? Begin!"

"Fire Spin, Bucephalus!" Rhys commanded, throwing out an arm to point at Cro. With a snort, the Rapidash braced its hooves against the ground and released a scorching blast of flame.

"Dodge, dodge, dodge!" Himeka screamed to Cro, bouncing about on the bottoms of her paws.

Cro leapt to the side as the fiery attack came barreling his way. Roaring, the Fire Spin arched downward. It split in two and went racing across the ground in opposite directions. Within seconds, the entire arena was surrounded by a ring of roaring fire.

Skin slick with sweat, Cro moved away from the flickering orange-red inferno. Flames raced after him, licking up sawdust at his heels, and the metal sword in Cro's hand was becoming too hot to hold. Without ceremony, he tossed it into the blaze behind him.

Somewhere in the background, the announcer was yelling and the crowd was gasping. But the crackling of the conflagration behind him had completely filled Cro's ears. As he stood in front of the fire, eyes narrowed in concentration, the crackling seemed to grow more and more intense. Soon, all the Human boy could hear was the thunderous roar of the arena bonfire, backed by the ragged, rasping sound of his own breath.

The announcer may have said something more; perhaps it was Rhys calling out to his Ringed or even Himeka screaming at Cro himself. All Cro was aware of was the sound of fire in his ears, the unbearable heat against his skin...

Pain stabbed through Cro's throat. Instinctively, his free hand shot up to the Ring around his neck. The scorching surface forced Cro to withdraw his fingers at first touch. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he fastened his fingers around the Ring again, ignoring the metal that charred his skin. No matter how hard Cro wrenched and pried, the Ring would not, _could not_, come off!

Bucephalus pawed at the ground, embers flying from its hooves. With a snarling battle cry, the Rapidash barreled forward.

The Ring seemed to contract, its searing sides crushing in on Cro's throat. Somehow, it seemed even hotter than the sword Cro had tossed aside so easily before. And its suffocating hold was squeezing the last bit of air from his windpipe.

Rearing up, Bucephalus aimed its flailing hooves at Cro's head.

Before they could contact, Cro's shield shot out, backed by all the force the boy could muster. The shield's edge caught the fire horse Pokémon in the throat, sending it staggering to the side. Grunting, Bucephalus regained its balance and made to attack again. But with a short flicker, both its fiery mane and tail dwindled away into a wisp of smoke.

"A clever move on the part of Madison's Ringed," the announcer said approvingly. "Looks like he slammed right into the Rapidash's fire sac. It'll be a minute or two before Phillips's Ringed can use any more Fire attacks. But I doubt that will make it any less formidable!"

"You can pull through, Bucephalus!" Rhys called out encouragingly. "Take out your opponent with a Take DOWN!"

"No, no, no!" Himeka was yowling at the top of her voice. "You can't make me lose! You can't, you can't, you can't!!!"

The mane-less Rapidash tore headlong in Cro's direction. Before Cro had time to react, splintering pain burst through his shoulder. One moment he was flying over the ground, the next, landing heavily in the sawdust. His arm twisted awkwardly underneath his body as he fell. Getting to his feet sent a nauseating wave of pain through his body.

Looking up, Cro saw Bucephalus in front of him, preparing to attack again. From behind, the flames of the Fire Spin snapped tauntingly.

Himeka's wail rang through the domed Stadium. "I _told_ you not to lose!"

As the Rapidash charged, Cro's body tensed. Above Himeka's shrieks, he could hear a lilting voice echo through his head, again and again like a faint, scratchy recording.

_I'm not exactly sure _how_ I can do it. But maybe you can try it, too. Just close your eyes and imagine yourself doing it the way you want to, over and over. Then open them again and try it for real. It's always worked for me. _

_See, watch this. I can walk on dirt, right? But if I concentrate very hard, I can also walk on water, on air..._

_Anything at all. _

"Epiphany, you're something else," Cro muttered automatically, words rolling out like stones from a dropped pail. "Now, get out of my head. I've got a battle to win."

Before he knew it, Bucephalus was upon him. But this time, Cro sidestepped just in time. The Rapidash went skidding past, and as it went, Cro grit his teeth and leapt.

He landed squarely on Bucephalus's back, one arm half-clutching at the fire horse's brawny neck. The arm he'd fallen on before dangled uselessly at his side, pain jolting up its length with every one of Bucephalus's jerky bounds. Bucephalus itself pumped its neck wildly up and down, hoping both to shake Cro off and rekindle its flaming mane. It succeeded in neither.

Roaring in anger, the Rapidash's head swiveled about and snapped at Cro's hunched form. Unable to reach its opponent, Bucephalus began to buck and rear up on its back legs. The boy hung on as doggedly as ever.

Straddling the Rapidash's body with his legs, Cro leaned forward. Ignoring the red-hot pain in his arm, he reached over and planted his hands firmly over Bucephalus's eyes.

For a moment, all Bucephalus could do was continue to rear and stomp as before. But as Cro dug his nails into its flesh, the Rapidash gave a strident whinny. Before anyone could stop it, the fire horse was racing blindly across the arena, straight for the barrier around the edge.

"Go back! Back!" Rhys yelped. "No! You're going to crash!"

Cro's arm throbbed. Bracing himself, he dug in his nails deeper.

Both Rapidash and its rider collided into the stone barrier. There was a sickening crunch, followed by the thud of two dropping bodies.

The ensuing silence was broken only by the Venusaur announcer. "That's got to hurt," he said with a wince. "With Phillips and Madison both down to their last Ringed, it looks the match will go to whoever's Ringed who can stand up first."

"C'mon, Bucephalus!" Rhys shouted in a ringing voice. "C'mon, all you have to do is get back onto your feet..."

"Get up, get up, get up!" came Himeka's shrill shriek. "I won't lose! I won't lose! I have to win!"

"Bucephalus, I know we can win this!"

"Get up! GET UP!!!"

* * *

The night air was chilly, but even in her thin sleeveless shirt, Eppie paid no mind to the cold. Standing on her tiptoes, the small girl glanced again at the Stadium's many arches. Light streamed out from each one, illuminating the road outside. But save for the light, nothing else had come through in hours.

Closing her eyes and lowering her heels, Eppie gulped down her growing apprehension.

At last, footsteps clattered down the stone hall. Eppie's eyes shot open, but it was only a yawning Squirtle, waddling out and brushing past without so much as a second glance. Sighing softly, Eppie stepped back again to wait.

A second set of footfalls reached her ears only five minutes later. But these steps were much slower, much more labored than before. Spirits reenergized, Eppie rushed forward and stood directly at the edge of the light. The radiance of the illuminated arch blinded her at first, but as Eppie's eyes adjusted themselves to the increased light, she could make out a hunched, limping form making its way outside.

This time, it _was _Cro. His black hair hung down in long, sticky strands, hiding half his face, and there was a deep gash in his shoulder. As he came closer, Eppie could see he was clutching one of his arms gingerly to his body.

Yes, he was beaten up badly. Maybe he had lost the battle. Maybe he had lost because he was still mad at her and hadn't been able to concentrate. But he was alive, and that alone filled Eppie past the point of overflow with happiness.

As Cro saw Eppie standing there, his eyes widened. Eppie could see his mouth opening soundlessly as he struggled to place the right words in it. Maybe he was going to tell her he had won. Maybe he was even going to say that he wasn't mad at her anymore.

But at that moment, Eppie didn't really care.

Before Cro could say a thing, she was rushing up and throwing her arms around him gratefully. And suddenly, she was crying all over again, mixing tears and mucus with the dried blood on her brother's tattered uniform.

But Cro didn't seem to mind. Extending his arms, both injured and unhurt, he hugged her back.

And he found he didn't need to say anything at all.


	13. Courtyard Conclave

Chapter Twelve

**Courtyard Conclave**

* * *

The bag with the altered Apricorns was heavy, heavier than she had found it before. Lynn had to drag it across the ground with both arms, its contents clattering with every one of her jerky steps. Her newfound acquaintance, Lark, on the other hand, had already shouldered her bag with ease.

"Need a hand?" the older girl called as she walked past.

Lynn didn't look up. "No," she managed to gasp out.

In one fluid motion, Lark slung the second sack over her own. Before Lynn had a chance to protest, the other girl was already at the edge of the courtyard, stuffing both bags back into the corner crevice. One of the strange hinged Apricorns that had fallen out of its bag was still nestled against Lynn's foot. Scooping it up, she started tentatively towards Lark. "Here's another one," she said, handing Lark the small sphere. "And another," she added, stooping to pick up an additional Apricorn she'd just spotted on the ground.

"Let's just hope Allegard didn't notice these," Lark sighed, taking both of the strange Apricorns from Lynn's hand. "And don't say anything to Cro. He's been teetering on the edge of sanity ever since the start of the Eight Days of Festival."

"Eight Days of Festival?"

"It's a Master holiday," Lark explained. "With the larger crowds, we're fighting twice the battles at the Stadium. You'd think that'd take out some of Cro's energy, but _no_. You can't beat Cro down. All the beating just makes him rant even more about the evils of Masters and how he'll be the one to revive the legacy of the Pokémon Trainers." She grinned, an action that belied her almost mocking tone. "And an attitude like that's just what _we _need in a leader!"

Lynn must have let some of her confusion slip onto her face, for Lark added quickly, "Don't worry. Most of us didn't understand either, at first. Just wait until the others get here, then we'll be able to explain what..."

"Bad girl, Lark, revealing secrets to strangers," drawled a bell-like voice from behind. Lynn spun around just in time to spot a dainty Vulpix springing from the open trapdoor and sauntering into the middle of the courtyard. It was followed by a plump-bodied Bellossom, whose green-leaved skirts rustled as it popped up.

"Oh, my!" the Bellossom squeaked, putting a chubby limb to its mouth. "Lark, you haven't been! You of all Ringed should know better than to!"

Though Lynn could not make out its face in the darkness, she was fairly sure that the Vulpix was rolling its eyes. "It was a joke, Ruey," the vulpine Pokémon snorted. "Give the girl some credit."

A flickering light blazed up only a few feet away, making Lynn jump. The Vulpix was kneeling at a low alcove by Lynn's feet, blowing glowing embers onto a small torch. Satisfied at the crackling blaze it had produced, it stepped back and puffed out a single smoke ring. Before Lynn could back away, she'd inhaled some of the smoke and began to cough.

"Lynn, the Vulpix with the orange Ring is Vixory," Lark said, striding over and clapping Lynn on the back. "Vix, this is Lynn. She's the one I told you about before. One of Cro's new recruits."

"I-I am?" Lynn choked out, half from the smoke, half from shock.

The Ringed Vulpix, Vixory, snorted. "Either you're a recruit, kid," it said, blowing an auburn curl of fur from its eyes, "or you're a smoking smear against that wall. We Ringed don't like traitors, sweetheart. Spies even less."

"Don't scare the poor dear, Vixi," the Ringed Bellossom reprimanded, pushing its way forward and smiling up at Lynn. "Hello, Lynn. I'm Ruemarie, representative of Verdant City's Hillpath District, and I welcome you." It dropped into a bobbing curtsy, causing Vixory to roll its olive-colored eyes.

"For a shop servant, you really put on airs," the Vulpix snorted, flipping a tail rather pointedly at Ruemarie's green Ring. "What'd you do today, oh high-and-mighty District Representative? Stock the selves? Sweep the floors? Take out the garage?"

"Now, Vixi," Ruemarie sniffed. "Just because I'm not a hard labor Ringed like you and Lark, or a battler like Cro, doesn't mean I don't deserve the same amount of respect."

Vixory snorted even louder at this, but restrained a real retort. "When's Cro coming?" the Vulpix demanded instead, turning to Lark.

"Whenever his Stadium match finishes, and whenever he can get away from that Master of his." Lark made a face. "Little _Princess _Himeka. I pity any Ringed that has to live under _her _control."

A strange popping noise sounded by Lynn's feet. Looking down, she saw the air shimmering briefly in the firelight. What was even more peculiar, however, was a shadow that was beginning to appear on the ground, even though there was clearly nothing above it.

"Um..." she started nervously.

In that exact instant, the shimmering spot of air was replaced by the cross-legged figure of a Human boy. Yelping in surprise, Lynn staggered backwards. The boy lifted his head at the strangled-sounding noise, eyelids fluttering open to reveal golden, almond-shaped eyes behind long, uneven black bangs.

"Hello, Xander," Ruemarie the Bellossom said kindly, waddling over. "We were afraid you wouldn't make it today."

"Heard you got creamed by Spark in the Stadium today," Vixory cackled from Lynn's other side. "Bet Master Rhys wasn't too happy about that!"

There was a flash of purple light and a yelp from Vixory. Xander's thin lips curled into a grin as a hand of psychic energy lifted the wriggling Vulpix by the scruff of its neck. [What was that again?] the Human Psychic queried, his telekinetic words echoing in the minds of all present.

The slam of a trapdoor startled everybody into a jump. In a strangled spurt, Xander's psychic aura flickered out. Vixory landed onto the ground with an "oomph!"

One foot on the trapdoor, Cro stood there, framed by the torchlight. One of his callused hands rested on Eppie's small shoulder. Sparkacus, black eyes bright, had its claws fastened into the shirt over Cro's own shoulder.

"Congratulations, Cro and Spark!" Ruemarie beamed, clapping its small green hands together in delight. "I heard you defeated Master Phillips's team in the Stadium this evening!"

"I hope you didn't take your defeat too hard," Sparkacus told Xander apologetically. "But your friend Bucephalus exacted a more than fitting vengeance. Despite all the Potions I've used, my shoulder still aches." The Pikachu rolled said body part experimentally and winced.

Xander shot the Pikachu a sour look, then grinned. [All in the game,] he replied with a flippant shrug. [But really, Bucephalus is a heck of a lot worse off than you, Spark. No one can come out of a head-on collision with a marble wall without some serious pain.]

"No one," Ruemarie corrected, "except for our Cro."

There was a moment or two of silence as all eyes in the courtyard turned to the stone-faced Cro. Lynn flinched to see that the tall boy was looking just as, if not more so, surly than ever. What was more, he seemed to have set his piercing gaze directly on her.

"I've talked with Eppie," he said, words addressed towards Lynn alone. "We've decided to let you stay. _If_, and only if, you can earn your keep."

A chill of apprehension shuddered through Lynn's body at the ominous silence that followed. Eyes sliding away from Cro, her gaze landed on Eppie, who was still standing beside him. She smiled brightly at Lynn, raising her hand and wiggling her fingers in a small wave. But whatever optimism Eppie was trying to lend was completely lost on Lynn.

Cro nodded his head in Lynn's direction. "Show them," he commanded, touching a finger to the Ring around his neck.

Meekly, Lynn pulled back her hair, baring her Ring-less throat.

Someone, perhaps Ruemarie, gave out a high-pitched gasp of awe. Vixory's squawk of indignation burst out a mere second behind it. "You crazy, Cro?" the Vulpix demanded, beating a paw against the ground. "Letting a _Master _into ourmeeting!"

"She's not a Master, Vixory," Cro replied in a cool voice. "She says she doesn't even know what a Master is."

"And you believe her?"

Cro's black eyes took on a steely gleam. "Right now," he said, "is her chance to convince us what she says is true. As the representatives of Viridian City's Ringed, I have full faith in your judgment. If any one of you has any doubts about her story..." he spread his arms to indicate the entire group, "I won't hesitate to act on them."

Lynn's eyes leapt from Ruemarie's nervous gape and Lark's steady gaze, to Xander's pale, emotionless face and Vixory's dark scowl. Eppie was still smiling at her, and from its perch atop Cro's shoulder, Sparkacus seemed to be nodding encouragingly.

So, gulping to clear the lump of anxiety in her throat, Lynn began to talk, desperately grasping for details as she went. She started first with the coming-of-age ceremony and how she'd left Verdant Forest. She told them about her encounter with the cryptic Wreander and his golden-eyed Eevee. After that, she moved into a description of the wild storm she'd been caught in on the road and the attack of the creature with the ruby-red eyes. She made sure not to forget about Null and the Apricorn grove, or how she'd traded her Gold Berry for a Magnet Train ticket. Throat parched and voice rasping, Lynn concluded at last with the train ride with Feldspar, and how Eppie had found her in the crowd and brought her up to the courtyard.

As her words died away, Lynn gulped and stared intently at the ground before her. But looking away would make her seem guilty. And that was the _last _thing she needed. Heart throbbing in her ears, Lynn lifted her head and gazed at each member of Cro's circle carefully, as earnestly as she could, straight in the eyes. Vixory, whose face was still dark with skepticism, Lynn held eye contact with a little longer than the rest. And in the end, it was the Vulpix, not the girl, who looked away first.

"That story," Vixory pronounced, "sounds like the product of too much sugar and not enough sleep. Did you make it up all by yourself, sweetheart?"

"Make it up?" Lynn echoed confusedly. "What...no!" she cried desperately, swerving about as she tried to appeal to the others. "Please! It's the truth! All of it!"

As she had been talking, the small group had somehow closed in on her. Eyes darting about, Lynn saw she was now knit in by their tight circle. There could be no running away now.

"Your story does seem a bit...farfetched," Ruemarie said softly, wringing her chubby green Bellossom hands. "Oh, you shouldn't have scared her witless like that, Vixi! I told you not to scare her..."

"She's a liar, Ruey."

"_Do _give the girl some credit!"

"Wait!" Lynn yelled. Vixory and Ruemarie stopped fighting and turned their attention back towards her. "I...I can prove it," Lynn said weakly, lowering her pack onto the ground. "Part of it, at least." Gulping, she dug a hand into the pack and pulled out the bundle of Gold Berries. Then she held her palm up to the light of the torch, tugging back the covers of the bundle.

Exclamations of wonder arose as a shimmering golden sheen leapt into the air. Lynn rolled the six remaining Berries across her hand, letting their metallic shells twinkle in the firelight.

Long fingers swooped down, plucking away the cloth Lynn had used to wrap the Berries. Lynn turned to see Lark intently examining the dark markings on the white fabric.

"Take a look at this, Cro," Lark called, waving the cloth in his direction. "What's it say?"

"Read it out loud for us all," Ruemarie agreed.

Still uncharacteristically silent, Cro accepted the cloth and smoothed out its many wrinkles. Xander floated forward on a bubble of psychic light, peering over Cro's shoulder as Cro began to speak. "Unfettered, untarnished, unyielding," the black-haired youth pronounced, running one calloused finger along the markings on the cloth. "Lynnet of the Verdant Forest. May the...bird of the seven feathers...guide you."

Without another word, Cro let the cloth drop onto the floor of the courtyard. Lynn watched silently as Cro stepped over the fallen fabric and walked right up to her. "You know about the bird of the seven feathers?" he challenged.

Lynn was on the verge of saying she knew more about the legendary bird than most. And hadn't she already told everybody that the reason she was here was to help that poor dead Fearow? The Fearow who had given her the vessel with the rainbow feathers, and told her to make sure that the bird of the seven feathers would fly the skies once more?

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

But it was at that exact moment Lynn realized she hadn't said a word about the Rainbow Wing yet. And she hadn't just forgotten, either.

Something had unconsciously held her back from mentioning it every time it had come up in her story. Which was ridiculous, considering the only reason she'd come to Verdant Stadium was to find out more about the Rainbow Wing! But now, seeing the jet fire blazing in Cro's eyes, the twitching of his tightly clenched jaw, Lynn quailed.

"I-I know a little," she stuttered finally. "From th-the stories they used to tell back...back in the forest."

"Stories?" Lark said unexpectedly from the other end of the circle. She turned to the younger girl, silvery ponytail lashing out behind her. "Tell us some of the stories you've heard in that forest of yours. Any that come to mind."

Nodding, Lynn tried to oblige. Her mind blanked out at first, causing an uneasy silence. Desperately, Lynn racked her brains once again. Everything now rested on one, crucial story, and she couldn't afford to falter now. Thoughts, pictures, words...she needed something, _anything_, to break the ominous stillness that now hung over the courtyard.

"Uh...um..." Closing her eyes and taking a nervous, but steadying breath, Lynn began.

* * *

_**Notes: **"Seven Feathers" is alive again! _

_**Timbirra** **the Teddiursa** was changed to **Himeka** **the Eevee** in a later version of the story (mostly because the idea of a horribly bratty Eevee was more amusing), so previous chapters have been updated to reflect this. _


	14. Initiate

Chapter Thirteen

**Initiate**

* * *

_The fourth heir and his Pikachu companion had been traveling many months now. One day, they came upon the beautiful city of Celladin. The heir was eager to prove his skills at the city's palace. But once he arrived at the palace, he made a grievous mistake. Not understanding the city's rules of proper etiquette, he unintentionally insulted the princess of Celladin. Because of this, the princess refused to let him enter._

_Now, the fourth heir was not a devious soul by nature. Trickery, in fact, was the last thing on his mind. But, standing outside the palace gates while all his companions had already been invited inside filled the last heir with a desperate determination. _

_It just so happened that a trio of traveling wizards had stopped by in Celladin. These wizards had all sorts of strange magic, such as a giant flying Meowth that would carry them into the skies at their command. But even then, these wizards had also been thrown out of the palace._

_So, upon meeting each other, the wizards and the fourth heir struck a deal. The wizards would cast a veil of illusion about the fourth heir and themselves. With this disguise, no one would recognize them. They would be able to get in past the guards, through the gates, and into the palace at last..._

"Okay, that's enough!"

Lynn snapped out of her story as Lark's shout rang through the air. The older girl's dark-skinned face was grim, and her eyes were on Cro.

"That's one of the legends about Martyr," Cro said at last, squeezing Eppie's shoulder. The little girl didn't say a thing, but her eyes flickered up in concern.

Lark nodded. "The story of the Martyr at Malachite...Celadon City," she said numbly. "It's been twisted a bit in some places, but it's still the same story. Lynn...tell us. Have the people in your forest, have they been there for a very long time? Do you know where they came from before that?"

Confused, Lynn shook her head.

[You're not saying,] Xander began, his telekinetic words incredulous, [that these forest people may once have been Pokémon trainers themselves?]

"There are stories," Lark said, "about Ringed that escaped, years and years ago, and started their own colonies in the forests. When they escaped from the cities, they probably took the stories of the Martyr with them. Somehow, these stories must have been changed over time."

Now her jaw was set and her voice firm. "Cro, I think this girl's the real deal."

"As do I," Sparkacus chimed in, nodding at Lynn. "Ruemarie? Xander?"

The Bellossom chewed the tips of its hands nervously. "Oh, dear," it said faintly, gazing about at the rest of the circle. "Well, I think we'd ought to give the poor girl a chance. She doesn't seem like a Master to me."

Next, the Psychic boy shook his dark bangs from his eyes. [Sorry, Vix,] he told the scowling Vulpix. [But a story told like that's pretty hard to fake. Plus she's got those Berries -if that's not proof she's not from around here, I don't know what is.]

"Stupid stories and shiny berries!" Vixory fumed, stamping its front paws against the ground. "Is that all it takes to convince you? What if she's working for the Masters?"

"What if she's not?" Lark challenged, stepping forward with her staff lowered. "Vix, look. I know why you're worried, and it's good to be alert. But what if Lynn _is _innocent? How would you feel then?"

"Oh, dear," Ruemarie said. "That's certainly a good point. Why don't we just trust the poor girl for now?"

The Vulpix's jade-hued eyes blazed verdant fire. "For now, maybe," it grunted. "But I'm not letting her off that easily."

Lynn tried to stand up straight as the Vulpix trotted forward, its curly tails upraised. "You want to be part of our team, sweetheart?" Vixory demanded.

"Uh..." Lynn floundered, afraid of unintentionally insulting it. "Um...what exactly does your team do, anyway?"

Xander's mental laugh resounded deafeningly through Lynn's mind. [You were so paranoid about her being some kind of spy!] he mocked Vixory. [And all this time, she had _no _idea what the heck we are! For Martyr's sake, do we have to spell it out for you?]

He didn't duck in time to avoid Lark's swinging staff. "Enough of that," the dark-skinned girl scolded. "Lynn, you understand who the Masters are, right? And you understand who _we _are, too, don't you?"

Slowly, Lynn nodded. Then, biting her tongue, she shook her head.

"We're Ringed, Lynn. Slaves to the Masters. Some of the Ringed are content with the lives they lead. I was, too, a long time ago." Lark's forehead wrinkled as she set her face. "Many Ringed don't know any better than to be content," she continued. "They've forgotten what _we _used to be, and what the Masters did to our people."

Cro's voice broke in suddenly, startling even Lark into silence. His words, though quietly stated, seemed surprisingly loud in the small courtyard. "But many others haven't forgotten. _We_ won't forget. The children of the Pokémon trainers weren't meant to be slaves. If no one else remembers that, then we'll fight until it's been branded back into their brains. Because we, Lynnet of _Viridian_ Forest, are the backbone of Viridian City's Ringed resistance force."

Silence followed Cro's unexpected speech. The rest of the circle seemed too intimidated by or too respectful of him to speak up. Feeling everyone else's eyes coming to rest on her, Lynn searched for something to say and blurted out, "S-so you fight the Masters, then. Um...okay...um..."

"Okay?" Vixory echoed mockingly. "Just a _little _less than okay!"

"We...ah," Ruemarie said timidly. "We have one plan..."

"Ha, right! We haven't got a way to get ourselves out of this stinking cesspool without raising an even bigger stink!" Vixory snorted, flipping its curl of fur from its eyes. "But that's all going to change, right about now. Believe it or not, sweetheart, you and that story of yours have given me a much better plan."

"Um...you're welcome?"

The Vulpix snorted again. "This is what I meant about not letting you off easy," it informed Lynn with a malicious grin. "You're going to be the center of our next mission."

[Hang on,] Xander said, floating forward on his glowing bubble. [I think I know what you're talking about, Vix.]

"Stop reading my mind, then!" the Vulpix snapped. "Look, Lynnet or whatever your name is, we've already established you've got no Ring. There's no better way to disguise yourself as a Master. You can waltz right into town and get yourself more respect from the other Masters than the whole lot of us have gotten in our entire lives."

"But Lynn is just a child," Ruemarie pointed out hesitantly.

"Hold up, Ruey, and give my plan some credit. So you come into town, pretending to be a Master. And the best thing about being a Master is that you don't have these little things holding you back." The Vulpix indicated the metallic Ring around its neck.

"The Rings are what keep us from leaving the city, Lynn," Lark explained quickly, noticing the former forest girl's confused face. "Each one is rigged with sensors. If any one of us tries to take them off, go into off-limits zones, or leave the city, they're supposed to detonate and blow us apart. In times of 'emergency,' our Masters are allowed to detonate the Rings as well."

Lynn's eyes widened, her face blanching at Lark's words.

Vix swished its tail dismissively at this. "The Rings are controlled by a security plant centered here in the city," it continued, ignoring Lynn's growing discomfort. "Of course, that's an off-limits zone for us Ringed. For a pretend Master, though, getting in is a heck of a lot easier." A wolfish grin was beginning to form on the Vulpix's face. "Especially if the pretend Master in question is best friends with the Chief of Security's cute little daughter."

There was a collective gasp from the other Ringed. Xander, for his part, laughed aloud. [You want her to get all buddy-buddy with _Himeka Madison_?] he guffawed. [Himeka doesn't make_ any _friends!]

"Got that right," Cro growled.

"That brat _couldn't_ make them even if she wanted to!" Vix shot back. "There's never been anyone who'd actually listen to her obnoxious whining, or a kid her own age that didn't avoid her like the plague." The Vulpix's pert mouth widened into a disconcertingly toothy smile. "Until now, that is."

"But what..." Lynn started. She gulped at Vix's penetrating gaze. "What if she doesn't like me?"

To her surprise, Vixory barked out a laugh. "Sweetheart, if dear Himeka doesn't like you, then we won't like you very much, either. And if that's the case, she's the least of your problems. No, the real problem is how we're going to get a rich little brat like Himeka to become friends with a dirty wild thing like you. Some extra money would help in that department."

"What's...money?"

Vix's eyes rolled all the way into the back of its skull. "Forest girl," the Vulpix muttered irritably to itself. "Money, sugar-covered angel heart, is what we silly city folk use to get what we want." It stood shakily up on its hind legs and pointed its nose in the direction of Lynn's hand. "You've still got the shiny berries, right?"

Lynn lowered her hand so Vixory could inspect the Gold Berries. The Vulpix nodded, falling back onto its front legs.

"You want to prove you're loyal to us, sweetheart?" it asked Lynn. "Well, you can start off by giving us one of those Berries. I'll bet all six of my tails that Old Man Scarbos will pay nicely for it."

Lynn's fingers closed over the Berries uneasily. It had barely been three days, and already she'd given away half of her precious gifts. But if this was what it took to get the others to trust her...then so be it.

"Okay," Lynn said, selecting the plumpest Berry and holding it out. Vixory took it delicately between its jaws, face triumphant.

"We can take care of all that tomorrow, Vix," Lark said. "But now that we've got everything with Lynn settled, you've all really got to be going. It's late, but Festival parties can't keep your Masters away all night."

[She's right,] Xander agreed, yawning widely. [Better go, else good old Rhys'll will probably throw a search party instead.] He vanished in a flash of purple light, mouth still stuck in mid-yawn.

Vixory trotted out without another word to anyone, and Ruemarie went scuttling anxiously after the Vulpix. The Bellossom paused a bit as it passed the still burning torch. Darting forward, it lowered its face and quickly blew out the flames. The courtyard disappeared, shrouded in a sudden cloud of darkness.

"Almost forgot!" Lark's voice rang out from the middle of the nothingness. "Cro, that Allegard kid stopped by this evening. He says you still owe him for that last batch of color nuts."

"Null Allegard showed up?" Cro repeated, eyes narrowing. "In person?"

"All stinking four-and-a-half feet of him."

Cro swore. Lynn peered through the darkness at Eppie, who had been extremely quiet during the entire discussion. Instantly, she saw why Eppie hadn't spoken -the little girl had long since fallen fast asleep. Her small body hung limply, Cro's arm the only support that kept it from sliding to the ground.

And Sparkacus...perhaps it was just her poor night vision, but Lynn did not see Sparkacus at all.

"So Allegard's come to the Stadium himself?" Cro was muttering. "That can't be good; who knows what the little rat's up to now? Come on, let's get going." He grunted as he hoisted Eppie over his shoulder.

"Wait!" Lynn cried out as he, Eppie, and Lark disappeared through the trapdoor exit, letting the door clunk down as they left. The childish, panicky words burst out before she could hold them back. "You're not going to leave me here all night, are you?"  
Apparently, they were, without the slightest qualms. Which left Lynn feeling incredibly stupid for acting so immature.

Hugging her arms around her body, Lynn backtracked into the corner of the courtyard and sat down. Teeth chattering in a sudden wind, she leaned back into the narrow crevice, only to feel the bulge of the Apricorn sack pressing uncomfortably against her. This was going to be one long, unpleasant night. Sighing, Lynn closed her eyes.

A soft brushing against her face sent her bolting into a sitting position.

"Relax, Lynn," came Sparkacus's voice from the shadows. "It's only me."

"Spark?"

"Yes." There was a rustle of fur as the Pikachu stepped back. "I'm afraid I don't have much time left to spend with you, if I'm to get back before my Master notices I'm gone. But I wanted to talk to you a little."

Gratefulness flooded every inch of Lynn's veins. Just the relief of not being left alone in this cold, dark courtyard made her feel eternally indebted to Sparkacus. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked the Pikachu, trying not to show how pathetically thankful she was.

"I've been thinking about the story you told us, about how you arrived in Verdant City. Perhaps I wasn't listening closely enough, but why exactly did you choose to come to Verdant?"

Lynn's heart sank. She couldn't explain about Aeolus and the Rainbow Wing now, not when she'd left it out before! Not without sounding even more suspicious than she did now, at any rate. "I-I don't know," she mumbled finally. "I've always wanted to see a city, and Verdant City sounded, um, good to me. Besides, Null gave me that train ticket, so I thought I might as well come here."

"That makes sense," Sparkacus replied in a gentle voice. "And what about that creature with the red eyes, the one who attacked you during the storm? It's a bit strange that it would just assault a random traveler like that, don't you think?"

Lynn nodded miserably. "Yeah."

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Lynn? Something that you might have forgotten to tell everybody before?"

She shook her head, before realizing that Sparkacus couldn't see her face in the darkness. "I-I don't think so..." she managed.

There was a small sigh from Sparkacus. Or perhaps it was just the murmur of a passing breeze, Lynn wasn't sure which. "You don't think so?" Sparkacus repeated softly. "Lynn, please understand. I wouldn't blame you for leaving part of your story out before. It was very brave of you to face the others like you did, and I admire you for having the courage to do so."

No one, Lynn knew, had ever associated her with having courage before.

"Vixory can be very aggressive. Believe me, I should know," Sparkacus went on, the hint of a chuckle in its voice. "And Cro's rather intimidating as well. Both of the same time may be a bit too much for anyone to handle!"

Despite herself, Lynn was smiling. Sparkacus's voice was kind and warm, its words sympathetic and reassuring.

"Maybe there _is_ something you should know," she said, making her decision at last. And she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Rainbow Wing.

There was no light in the courtyard, but the Wing seemed to glow with a radiance all its own. Squinting only a little, Lynn could see Sparkacus's face fill with awe as it was illuminated in the golden aura of the vessel.

Sparkacus proved to be a good listener. It didn't interrupt Lynn even once as she explained about Aeolus the Fearow and her mission in Verdant City. When she had finished, the Pikachu reached out a small paw.

"May I touch it?" it asked Lynn. She nodded, and Sparkacus laid its paw on the Wing's golden surface. "So these are the feathers of Ho-Oh, the legendary phoenix Pokémon," it mused, eying the long rainbow feathers that protruded from the vessel's back. "And, according to Aeolus, once you assemble all seven of these feathers, you will have the power to summon Ho-Oh back to earth and possibly even control it. Interesting, very interesting indeed. A rare coincidence."

"What coincidence?" Lynn asked.

The Pikachu drew back from the vessel, casting its face into shadow. "Do you know why Cro was so angry with you when you first came here?" it inquired.

"He thought I was a burden," Lynn said, lowering her gaze. "A stray, like he told Eppie."

There still enough light for Lynn to see Sparkacus shake its head. "No, Lynn," the Pikachu replied. "He was angry because Eppie had called you the last heir. The last heir, you must understand, is the legendary descendent of the Martyr, and the one supposedly destined to bring Ho-Oh back and save us all."

"But I'm not," Lynn protested. "Eppie has to be wrong. I mean, I never knew about any of this before! All I had before...was one feather."

"And that's just the thing," Sparkacus told her. "Though Cro may not trumpet it around, I'm too close to him not to know. Cro thinks that _he_ is meant to be the last heir. He's thought that his entire life. And you know why?" The Pikachu's gaze fell to the feathers dangling from the Wing. "Because he, too, was given one of those rainbow feathers as a small child. To discover you, not himself, is the true wielder of the Rainbow Wing...I do not fancy the thought of what he might do."

Lynn's knees began to shake; if she'd still been standing, she most certainly would have fallen. "But I can't be the last heir!" she cried. "All this destiny talk is...well, it's wrong. Cro'll know that! Won't he?"

"For Cro, there is no purpose other than that of becoming the last heir. To him, Lynn, you are a threat. A very real rival." Sparkacus's round eyes grew steely. "Perhaps it is best if you did not show the Rainbow Wing to anyone else," the Pikachu advised. "You were wise to keep it a secret before. Meanwhile, I'll see what I can do about getting that one feather from Cro. It'll bring you one feather closer to completing the Wing, yes?"

"But what about after that?" Lynn demanded, feeling sick all over again. "I'm no last heir. I don't know what to do next."

"We'll figure it out," Sparkacus told her, voice ringing with confidence.

And, really, it was the fact that the Pikachu had used the word "we'll" instead of "you'll" that made Lynn feel just the tiniest bit better. Though she often preferred to be alone, there were some times where having a friend or two didn't hurt at all.

Both girl and Pikachu conversed a while longer, growing increasingly more comfortable and candid with each other.

But unknown to both, another set of eyes was watching through the darkness.


	15. Catching Wind of the Future

Chapter Fourteen

**Catching Wind of the Future**

* * *

There was no lively birdsong or whispering of wind through the leaves to rouse Lynn the next morning. Despite her apprehensions and the hard ground, she had somehow managed to fall asleep after Sparkacus's departure.

Already, it was morning, and the brisk early breeze was ruffling at her hair. Still half-asleep, Lynn rolled over. Something tickled her nose, forcing out a sneeze.

"Bless you!" came a cheery voice.

Prying open one eye, Lynn made out a small, blurred form high above her. Eyelid dropping back into place, she turned and pressed her face more closely against the ground. To her surprise, it wasn't cold stone that she felt below her cheek. It was something soft and cushiony.

Eyes opening, Lynn saw that she had been sleeping in a bed of moss. She felt around with her hands before rising into a sitting position.

Fine verdant moss covered the entire floor of the courtyard, tinged with beads of dew. Blades of grass poked through cracks in the stone, most still too stubby to flutter in the morning breeze. And here and there, delicate leaved plants had sprung up along with the grass. Many were no more than tiny sprouts, straining their small limbs towards the sun. But others already displayed fragile flower buds, or even vibrant unfurled blossoms.

Behind her, Eppie giggled in delight. "It's just like a forest!" the little girl exclaimed, throwing her arms out and spinning in a giddy circle.

Which wasn't exactly true, but for a city kid like Eppie, probably pretty close.

"All this wasn't here last night," Lynn whispered confusedly as Eppie flopped onto her stomach. Walking over, Lynn saw that the other girl was staring intently at a small wildflower.

"So little," Eppie said, reverently placing a finger on one of the frail white petals.

A rush of footsteps sounded up the steps leading to the trapdoor. "Rise and shine, everybody!" rang Lark's clear voice.

Turning, Lynn saw the silvery-haired girl hoist herself into the courtyard, balancing her usual wooden staff in one hand. Ruemarie the Bellossom, whom Lynn still remembered from last night, came scurrying up after her.

"Good morning!" Ruemarie chirped, holding up its flower-petal skirts as it hurried forward. Seeing the flora-filled courtyard for the first time, it immediately dropped its skirts and clapped a hand to its mouth. "Oh my!"

"Looks like our resident forest spirit's worked up some of her magic," Lark remarked, prodding Lynn with the tip of her staff.

Lynn could only shake her head. "I didn't do anything!"

"Relax, girl," Lark laughed, giving Lynn a light whack on the shoulder. "Whatever happened, it looks a heck of a lot prettier than before. As long as Cro doesn't find out...and he won't, right, Ruey?"

The Bellossom nodded encouragingly. "Cro will be hard at work all day long," it informed Lynn. "We have plenty of time to think up an excuse for why he shouldn't come here any time soon."

"Eppie? You won't tell Cro, will you?"

No answer.

"Eppie?" Lark asked again, bending down beside her.

The tip of Eppie's nose just brushed the ivory blossom, and her breathing had become even and deep. A flower as small as that couldn't possibly possess much fragrance. Yet, to look at Eppie lying there fully entranced, you'd think she'd discovered the most heavenly of scents. Indeed, the small girl's face was beaming with undiluted ecstasy.

_She's never seen a live flower before,_ Lynn realized with a pang. _She never had the chance, I guess._

"You like the pretty flower, Ep? Here, let me get it for you."

Eppie snapped out of her trance as Lark's hand descended, and quickly cupped her own fingers over the fragile plant. "I like it best when it's alive," she said simply to the older girl. "And don't worry 'bout Cro. I won't tell him."

Lark smiled and patted Eppie affectionately on the head, but the little girl didn't even notice. She was too busy breathing in a scent that no one else could smell, humming a little to the beat of a tune only she could hear.

Straightening, Lark exchanged a secret look with Ruemarie. It contained no confusion or exasperation, as one might expect. In the brief glimpse that she caught, Lynn could see only pity in the eyes of Eppie's friends.

That was strange. Why should they feel sorry for Eppie when she was obviously so happy?

The clank of something heavy and metallic startled Lynn out of her idle musings. Someone else was coming up the stairs and through the trapdoor, dragging what sounded like a rather bulky object behind them.

Instantly, Lark and Ruemarie raced past to help whoever it was with their burden. Lynn hung back by Eppie as the others, panting and groaning, heaved a large metal basin into the courtyard.

"Right on time, Dorissa," Lark grinned. Lynn craned her head to the side, just in time to see a plump Azumarill emerge from the opposite end of the basin.

"Anything for Cro and the rest," the Azumarill said benignly. "Shall I fill it up?"

"Yes." A mischievous gleam flashed through Lark's blue eyes. "As cold as you can make it."

Curious, Lynn inched forward, almost tripping over Eppie as she did. Regaining her balance, Lynn approached the scene from behind Lark. She peeked over the tall girl's shoulder as the Azumarill aimed a blast of water into the center of the basin. The Pokémon held itself steady until the water grew level with the basin's edge. Then, and only then, did it pull away to take a breath of air.

Standing on the tips of its toes, Ruemarie stuck a dainty hand into the basin. It snatched it back almost instantly, teeth chattering. "Oh my! That _is _chilly! Are you sure it's wise, Lark?"

"Positive. Thanks, Dorissa. We'll bring the tub back when we're done."

"Take your time," the Azumarill replied as it walked away.

Next thing Lynn knew, Lark's strong hand was around her wrist and dragging her towards the water basin. "I'm not sure what we're going to do with her hair," Lark said to Ruemarie as she seated Lynn on the basin's edge. "It's way too tangled to brush out."

"Should we cut it, then?"

Lark took a handful of Lynn's dark hair and frowned. "That's what I was thinking, too. How about just below the chin?"

"Well..." Ruemarie hesitated, squinting as it tried to visualize Lark's suggestion. "Yes, I believe that'll work."

"Wait!" Lynn managed to cry before Lark could find a pair of scissors. "What are you doing?"

Lark's look embodied the essence of perfect innocence. "Just trying to make you look nice, Lynn," she replied, swiftly grabbing the scissors Ruemarie handed her. "You can't really expect anyone to believe you're a Master if you don't at least _look _the part."

Before Lynn could object, the scissors were at the side of her head. She watched mournfully as dark locks of hair began falling towards the ground, heaping together in large clumps. "Once we're done with this," Lark explained, voice a little gentler than before, "you can wash up in the tub Dorissa brought for you. I think Dorissa also gave us some soap; you should probably use that, too."

Lynn winced as Lark tugged her head back. "What's 'soap'?"

"That explains a lot," Lark grinned, still snipping away.

* * *

The sun was bright, and the earth felt alive for the first time in years. Looking about at the array of foliage around her, Eppie could feel life coursing through the veins of every delicate leaf, each tender blossom. She pressed her face against the ground, blissful to find not the hard surface of rock, but the soft cushioning of moss. Stone had a cold, stoic elegance all its own, but stone did not live. Not like this.

Lynn's yelp, and the splash of water that followed, did nothing to disturb Eppie. She felt as if she could lie here forever, soaking up sunlight as serenely as the plants that surrounded her.

The wind pawed playfully at Eppie's half-turned face. It streamed through her dull-colored hair, batting at her limp tuft of a ponytail. Smiling dreamily, the small girl shifted onto her back, letting the breeze run across her entire face.

She hadn't been thinking much of anything, but something was shifting in the back of Eppie's head. A gentle whisper drifted just above her face, accompanied by a rush of wind that was much chillier than before. Shivering, Eppie rose into a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her suddenly cold body.

Gazing about, she saw that same frigid wind tear through a nearby cluster of wildflowers. In an instant, it was back, entangling itself in Eppie's hair and clothes. Not missing a moment, it raced along the wall of the courtyard, hissing as it brushed against the stone.

"Epiphany?" Eppie whispered uncertainly to the wind. "Is this a new game?"

One tendril of the breeze swept back, murmuring in her ear. A smile spread across Eppie's small face and she nodded enthusiastically. "Let's go, Epiphany!" she said in a soft, but eager voice. "Ready when you are!"

With another hiss, the breeze was off. Eppie quickly tiptoed after it, careful not to disturb the others. She slipped down the trapdoor and hurried down the stairs without much trouble, only a step behind her invisible companion.

The breeze wasted no time in leading her down a narrow passage and back up a different flight of stairs. This stairway was much longer than the first. As she puffed her way up the last couple steps, Eppie couldn't help but giggle. Epiphany always came up with fun new games. What the surprise at the end of this one would turn out to be, she had no idea. But, knowing Epiphany, it was bound to be something exciting!

There was no door at the top of these steps, only an arched opening leading back outside. Eppie ran into the sunlight with her arms spread far apart.

She was standing on top of a long stone wall. Glancing down, Eppie spotted the little courtyard, complete with stretches of green. At the yard's center, she could even make out the shapes of Lynn, Lark, and Ruemarie. And if she bent her head just the right way, the wind could carry up their voices to her. She smiled to hear Lark's laughing commands, Ruemarie's reassuring words, and Lynn's shouts of indignation as she was repeatedly dunked underwater.

Even tearing her gaze away from the scene below, Eppie's mind still reveled from what she had just seen. A wave of exhilaration flooded her body and she did a little spin, right there on the spot. "I've never been so high up before!" Eppie told her companion of a breeze elatedly. "This is the best surprise ever, Epiphany!"

The wind sighed contentedly, winding itself around Eppie's bare arms before taking off again. Humming happily to herself, Eppie followed the insistent gust of air down the wall.

To her surprise, she was not the only person up there. Someone else was sitting a little ways off, with their back to Eppie as she approached. As she came closer, she realized whoever the person was wasn't even on the wall. They were sitting atop what looked like a puffy hovering cloud. Only this cloud was green instead of white, and it glowed even in the bright sunlight.

"Hello!" Eppie called, waving a hand. The figure on the green cloud remained immobile.

Puzzled, Eppie walked closer. The cloud not only glowed, it pulsed with a constant inner light. In fact, it reminded Eppie of those bubbles of psychic light Xander liked to sit on. Maybe this person was a Psychic, one too busy concentrating to pay attention to her.

Intrigued by such a thought, Eppie scurried up. She sat down herself and let her legs dangle in the air, just like the person on the cloud did. Then she closed her eyes, willing herself to concentrate hard in hopes of unlocking some hidden power of her own.

"What's that girl doing up here?" came the sudden voice of a boy.

Eppie's eyes shot back open. The person on the cloud, the boy who'd spoken, was leaning forward. Craning her neck forward as well, Eppie caught a glimpse of a small Eevee nestled in the floating boy's lap.

"Vee-eee?"

There was an exaggerated sigh from the floating boy. "Don't ask me how she got up. I thought there was no way up here, not from the ground."

"I'm sorry," Eppie said to the boy. "But there _is_ a way to get here from the ground. I came up the stairs with my friend Epiphany. She showed me the way."

This time, the boy turned towards Eppie. He was a pale child, with a faded complexion and old-fashioned clothes. But his face grew even more ashen when he looked at her, as if it had completely drained of blood. "Who are you?" he demanded, cloud revolving so that he faced Eppie directly.

"My name's Eppie," the girl replied readily. "And this is Epiphany!" She giggled as the wind tickled her cheeks. "She's my friend!"

The boy's dark gaze widened. The Eevee in his lap, a slight creature with large golden eyes, gave a small yap. Instantly, the boy's face assumed a hard, sharp look, one that gave Eppie several misgivings.

"So, Eppie," he said, leaning one arm casually against the side of the wall. "Quick question. Can _you _see me? Or is it your buddy Epiphany who told you I'm here?"

"Of course I can see you," Eppie answered, somewhat bemused. "And Epiphany can see you, too. Right, Epiphany?" She leaned into the wind, nodding as it ruffled her hair. "Yep, that's right!"

But from the boy's incredulous expression, Eppie had the feeling she'd said something horribly wrong. The Eevee, too, had trained an intense stare upon her. Growing more and more uncomfortable, Eppie started to scoot down the wall. A gust of air roared into her ears as she did.

"Hey, stop!" the boy called out as Eppie scrambled onto her feet. "Watch out, you're going to fall!"

No sooner had the words popped out than Eppie felt herself losing balance. Crying out, she tilted over the edge of the wall...

Only to be propped back up a second later by a hand of emerald light.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, sitting back down and tucking her feet beneath her body. The glow of the psychic creation subsided, flickering away into a wisp of green smoke.

"No problem," the boy said with a grin. Nonchalant as you please, he extended a hand. "Name's Wreander. And my friend here's Eon."

The golden-eyed Eevee gave a little yip of acknowledgement.

Eppie reached forward to shake Wreander's hand. She nearly fell off the wall again once she saw what Wreander was wearing over said hand: a glove with silver claws protruding from the fingers.

"A bit clumsy today, aren't we?" Wreander said, turning his clawed glove so that the sharp pieces of metal flashed. His easy smile twisted itself into a smirk as he noted Eppie's wide eyes. "Weren't you ever told not to stare? Kids today. So rude." Still smirking, he retracted his hand without giving her another chance to shake it.

"I wasn't trying to be rude," Eppie said as she tried to position herself closer to the glowing cloud.

"Just scared."

She shook her head and tightened her grip. "Epiphany brought me here," Eppie told Wreander simply. "Epiphany wouldn't bring me to someone I should be scared of."

Wreander nearly fell off his cloud laughing. "You put a lot of trust into this Epiphany of yours, don't you?"

Pulling her legs into a crouch, Eppie nodded absentmindedly. Then, pursing her lips in concentration, she reached a shaking hand off the wall. Her bony fingers grasped the edge of Wreander's cloud, and to her dismay, passed right through its vaporous surface.

Her feet, balanced so precariously on the edge of the wall, slipped at last. Once again, Eppie felt herself plummeting. She saw a streak of emerald light racing down after her, but it was too slow! There was no way it could draw even in time.

The ground rushed up beneath her, the reality of the cold stone floor finally slamming into Eppie's numbed brain.

But before she had a chance to scream, a second column of light shot up from below. One second, Eppie was falling. The next, she was enveloped in a shimmering green bubble, one of a paler hue than Wreander's psychic light.

Peering through the bubble's translucent walls, Eppie saw that she'd been caught less than a yard above the ground. Just several steps away sat Lark and Ruemarie chatting with each other. Lynn, sitting between the two, looked rather pained as the others drew wooden combs through her knotted hair.

"Hey!" Eppie called, knocking a fist against the side of the bubble. "Ruey! Lark! Lynn! It's me!"

Not a one of them turned. Frustrated, Eppie banged harder.

Before she could get out another word, the ground rolled out underneath her feet. Losing her balance, Eppie fell onto her rear as both she and the bubble started to ascend. The green aura that surrounded its slick surface fizzled away as the bubble stopped moving. Blinking confusedly, Eppie saw she was sitting back atop the wall. The protective bubble was gone and Wreander was watching her with a look teetering between amusement and annoyance.

"That," he said in a voice that, similarly, sounded both wry and exasperated, "was a very stupid thing to do."

"I was only trying to shake your hand," Eppie told him, slightly hurt by this remark. "But you were too far away from me to reach."

Wreander raised one pale eyebrow. "And you fell too far for me to catch," he retorted with a sneer. "Lucky my friend was alert enough to save you from becoming a splat on the ground."

As if on cue, a ring of jade sparkles sprang up around Wreander's shoulder. Eppie gazed, entranced, as the sparkles swirled together, forming the outline of a small, elfish figure. Slender antennae curled forward from the creature's smooth-skinned head, long arms folded themselves across its body. As Eppie bent forward, a pair of luminous sapphire eyes shot open, accented by the black that ringed them.

"Bii!" the owner of the eyes chimed, unfurling her translucent wings and hopping into the air. Eppie giggled as the fairy-like creature flew over her head, darting first under one ear, than over the other.

"She likes you," Wreander drawled, languidly watching both of them. "Big surprise there. Celebi's a real softie when it comes to kids."

"Bii bii!"

Wreander dodged the pale green sparks that Celebi shot in his direction. "Why don't you do me a favor?" he laughed. "Tell me what you see for our new friend here."

The petite fairy treated him to a blink of her gleaming blue eyes. "Biii?"

Wreander's face flared a brief emerald, making Celebi's face light up almost instantly. "Biii ii'bi iii," she chirped, giving Eppie a quick pat on the shoulder.

Gently, Celebi placed her slender fingers on either side of Eppie's face. The girl did not recoil at the unexpected movement. Tilting her chin up, she met Celebi's intense azure gaze.

"Bii," Celebi said with a satisfied smile. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward and pressed her smooth forehead against Eppie's own.

The wall fell out from under Eppie as if it'd been suddenly yanked. Choking on an unborn scream, she hurtled downward through the darkness that surrounded her. Wind streamed over Eppie's bare arms, and as she finally opened her mouth, deep into her throat. She gasped at its unexpected frigidity, the merciless callousness with which it tore at her body.

Twin bright streaks of blue, perhaps Celebi's wide eyes, materialized from the black void. As Eppie fell, they seemed to run into the darkness and disappear. Eppie kept on plummeting down without any indication of how far she'd fallen, or how far she had left to fall before...

The darkness exploded into a blinding sky of white. Howling in rage, an arctic wind hit Eppie full in the body, wrenching her around and around in a violent cyclone. Shards of ice entered the swirling storm, stabbing into her bruised skin.

Between the flying bits of ice, Eppie could catch glimpses of the sky changing color. Red seeped through the grayish-white like blood through a worn towel. Her dizzy head barely managed to distinguish the red blots as they began to darken and shift.

Without warning, a green flare filled the air. The wind gave one last shove, hurtling Eppie so hard her neck almost snapped in two. Gasping for breath, she twisted her throbbing neck back into place, finding her face turned towards the sky as she fell once more.

The blots of red had clarified now. In their place loomed a pair of eyes, bloodshot and unblinking.

Eppie stared back, transfixed in a horror she could not explain. Then, emerald light was streaming from the sky, and the world was rushing past her once more...

With an "oomph!" of surprise, Eppie felt her head falling forward into her lap. Celebi had yanked her fingers away just moments before. Even now, crackles of pale blue static, shot through with red, ran up and down the length of the Pokémon's arm.

"Celebi?" Eppie said worriedly.

"Ibi ii," the Pokémon muttered in reply, still staring at her hands. From behind Celebi, Wreander was wearing a very strange look indeed.

Lowering her limbs to her side, Celebi turned back to the cloud-borne boy. "Bii bi-ii ibii ii, bi!" she uttered quickly, face grim. "Ibi ii, iiieee!"

"Eee-vi," Eon the golden-eyed Eevee growled, bushy tail swishing.

Though Wreander's face twitched, it did not give away any emotion. "Well, Eppie," the boy said. "It looks like we'll be leaving you now. Take care."

"Leaving?" Eppie's face fell. "But we only just met! I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I'm sorry!"

But it was too late for pleas. Wreander, Eon, and Celebi had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the wind as Eppie's company.

"I didn't mean to hurt anybody," Eppie whispered. "I really didn't." The now gentle breeze brushed against the girl's shoulders, urging her back onto her feet.

Eppie did get up, shivering as she did so. Her arms still ached with invisible bruises, and the memory of those imperious red eyes still lingered in her mind. Legs wobbling, she walked down the length of the wall, back the way she'd come. She did not look up.

If she had, though, Eppie might have noticed that there was no exit on the far end of the wall. Indeed, the marble remained as impassive as ever. But as Eppie neared the end of the wall, she did not bother to check where she was going. Her limp arms swung forward like leaden weights.

The marble melted away as soon as the girl's hands made contact, fading so swiftly it was as if an opening had been there all along. As Eppie disappeared over to the other side, the wall closed up after her. As the marble became whole once more, a spark of icy blue and blood red fizzled down its length.

A stray breeze wound its way forward, racing briefly across the now unblemished wall. With a whisper of a chuckle, it swirled into the distance.

* * *

Face cast in a muted green glow, the boy Wreander opened his eyes. He was sitting atop a different wall, Eon balanced in his lap and Celebi perched beside him.

In the courtyard below, the figures of Cro, Vixory, Sparkacus, and an assortment of other Ringed were assembled around several small furnaces. Wreander watched wordlessly as Cro took an Apricorn from a nearby sack.

Not looking up from his work, Cro placed the Apricorn into the flames with a pair of tongs. In the same movement, he pulled a finished one out of the fire and set it in a basin of water. Sparkacus and a young Human girl set to work carving the cooled Apricorns with knives, while Vixory the Vulpix and a Ringed Slugma fed flames into one of Cro's makeshift forges. At the other end of the courtyard, even more Ringed practiced throwing the cool, carved Apricorns at increasingly difficult targets.

"Same as always with our little Ringed friends," Wreander said in an almost bored voice. "I don't know why we even bother to watch them."

"Eeevi iee," Eon pointed out, long ears flicking.

"Of course they'll be important," Wreander said. "Thing is, I've got a feeling our buddy Cro isn't the only one we need to keep an eye on."

"Vee?"

"There's something strange about that Eppie kid," Wreander said. "She's not who she seems to be. Heck, I don't think she's even what _she_ believes herself to be."

The Eevee in his lap cocked its furry head. "Vee'ee eeve," it muttered back. "Eevee vi ee, vee e."

"B'ibi ii!" Celebi said sharply, wings fluttering in agitation.

Wreander nodded at the pixie-like Pokémon. "She may look like innocent, but something dangerous is lurking in that head of hers. And whatever it was went berserk when Celebi tried to do a mind probe. It'll be on its guard now, without a doubt."

"Ibi ii," Celebi muttered in a low voice. "Bibii iii bi-eee."

"The time'll come for that, my friend," Wreander said with a laugh, leaning back against the wall. "But then, you know all about time, don't you?"

Chiming in agreement, the fairy-like Pokémon sprung up from the wall and swerved about in the air. A rain of pale green sparkles shimmered down briefly. When the glittering cascade had faded away, the wall was deserted, air still swirling from the trio's departure.


	16. The Making of Master Lynnet

Chapter Fifteen

**The Making of Master Lynnet**

* * *

Verdant Park wasn't much of a real park in any respect. It consisted mostly of a rundown playground, two scraggly moth-eaten trees, and a tiny sandbox stuffed away in one corner. Still, it drew children that were too young to be allowed into the Stadium like Beedril to a trove of honey.

Master Rhys Phillips was fifteen, far older than the majority of park frequenters. But Rhys had a penchant for bringing his Ringed team to the city park as an occasional treat. For several hours every month, Ringed and Master would mingle freely over park grounds, chatting and playing games together.

Xander hated every minute of these little visits. Not only did it mean missing out on important meetings with Cro and the others, but just being in the park itself was degrading. Swings and slides were for three year-olds. And that, Xander knew, was how Rhys had always viewed his Ringed.

"Hey, how's it going?" came Rhys's voice suddenly.

Shaken from his thoughts, Xander's head jerked up. Gazing through his long messy bangs, he became aware of the swing he was sitting on and the playground around him once more.

Casual as you please, Rhys grabbed an adjacent swing and hopped into it. For a minute, he swung back and forth as quietly as Xander, watching Bucephalus the Rapidash and another Ringed, a lively Sandslash, playing a game of tag.

"Looks fun, doesn't it?" Rhys asked, indicating the two Ringed with a jerk of his head. "Want to see if they'll let us play with them?"

Xander's knuckles grew white as he tightened his hold around the swing's metal chains. Rolling his eyes, he shook his head once, then twice.

"Hey, you're not upset about losing last night's match, are you?"

Unable to help himself, Xander stared at Rhys indignantly._ You're the Master, he wanted to retort. What do I care about the fights you pick?_

But it was too late to talk back. Rhys had hit his stride, and he wasn't backing out.

"Listen, Xander," Rhys was saying, smiling what he obviously thought was a friendly grin. "Winning's great, but it's not everything. All I care about is that you did your best. You put up a great fight, and I'm proud of you."

_So what? _Xander thought inwardly. That was a common mistake, thinking that all the Ringed cared about was trying to please their Masters. Sighing, he turned his head away from Rhys and waited for his Master's speech to end.

"And anyway, we've still got that huge Festival tournament coming up in three days," Rhys continued. "If we win that one, I'll take you all out for ice cream! If we don't win, well…I'll still get everyone ice cream! How does that sound?"

Xander didn't want to answer that. He kept his head lowered and stared at the ground, wishing irritably that Rhys would just give up for once and go away.

"Even if we get last place!" Rhys announced loudly. "Last place or first place, none of that matters at all! All of us'll just get out there and give it our all. Okay with you, Xander?"

The Psychic boy sighed as Rhys's bright blue eyes lit up in a grin. [It's sad to see you try sometimes.]

"That's right. All you have to do is go out there and try," Rhys said, not catching the sarcasm in Xander's voice at all. "And no matter how you do, remember, you still get ice cream!"

[Wow, ice cream,] Xander remarked dryly. [With sprinklies, too?]

"Sprinklies, too," Rhys agreed, still oblivious to Xander's drippingly sardonic tone. "Lots and lots of them!"

[I was kidding!] Xander exploded in frustration. [I didn't really mean that! Please don't tell me you actually thought I meant that!]

Rhys, however, seemed to have gone temporarily deaf. "Hey, you don't mind if I go play tag with the others, do you?" he broke in suddenly.

Xander sighed, not even knowing why he tried anymore.

Mistaking Xander's grimace for a grin, Rhys gave him a pat on the shoulder and leapt out of his swing. Looking incredibly pleased for having cheered one of his Ringed up, the lively young Master started towards his Rapidash and Sandslash, clamoring to play in their game, too.

Xander had always hated the obviously cruel Masters who beat their Ringed for messing up a task or not working hard enough. Vixory's Master was like that, which was probably part of the reason Vixory itself was so brash at times. And then there were the annoying incompetent Masters, like Cro's Himeka Madison, who'd drive you half-crazy with their constant nagging.

Xander supposed he should've considered himself lucky. Rhys wasn't cruel or bratty or stupid. He honestly seemed to care about his Ringed and went out of his way to make sure they were treated well. But even Rhys, kind as he tried and tried to be, couldn't manage to regard his Ringed as true equals. To him, Ringed were no more than amusing pets to be patronized, but not, _not ever_, real people worthy of independence and equality.

That, more than anything, had been the reason Xander had joined Cro. Not because he really hated his Master, not because he resented the history of Masters in general, but because that was the only way to make them truly understand.

_I wish it weren't, _Xander thought as he watched Rhys's retreating back._ Not everybody'll deserve what might happen to them. Not by a long shot._

_But then, we never deserved what happened to us, either._

* * *

As the voluminous blue dress descended over her head, Lynn seriously thought to say something in protest. She'd already put up with Lark and Ruemarie cutting her hair, dunking her in ice cold water, and tearing mercilessly at her scalp with their sharp combs. Now she was suffocating within a sea of thick cloth. Screwing up her face, Lynn opened her mouth…

And inhaled a deep breath of air as her head popped out.

"It's absolutely darling!" Ruemarie enthused, straightening some wrinkles in the cloth with a quick pat. "You look like a little angel!"

"Not too bad," Lark told Lynn as she tied a red ribbon around Lynn's waist, and another one in her hair. "There! Go take a look at yourself."

Lynn did not want to look cute. She did not want to see whatever "little angel" Ruemarie and Lark had transformed her into. But any remnants of power had already been swiped out of her hands. Gritting her teeth, Lynn stepped up to the water basin and peered reluctantly in. The distorted image of her own face greeted her. Backing up, Lynn could make out the basic style of the dress she wore in the water: mostly sky-blue, with a white apron front and short puffy sleeves. The ribbon in her hair had been looped around several times, creating a large and flimsy-looking bow. Ruemarie had been right. The entire outfit screamed candy-coated adorableness. Lynn fervently hoped that her old clothes hadn't been thrown away.

If Lark and Ruemarie had done one thing right, though, it was the hair. Once knotted and matted, it was now clean and glossy, curling around Lynn's face just below the chin. She bent over to get a closer look and promptly tripped over the edge of her new dress.

"Careful," Lark said, steadying Lynn before she could fall into the tub. "The hem's a bit long, but it's the best we could get. Like it?"

Despite her misgivings, the looks on Lark's and Ruemarie's faces were so proud and expectant that Lynn couldn't manage to disappoint them. "It's very nice," she replied, slapping on a small smile. "Thanks for going to all the trouble."

"It was no big deal," Lark answered with a grin. "We've got connections all over the place. It was easy to get one or two of them to loan us stuff."

"Not just that," Lynn said. "You, both of you. Coming here and helping me to…um, look nice. I really…uh, well, thank you."

As jumbled up as Lynn's words were, both Ruemarie and Lark seemed to take her intended meaning to heart. "You're a sweetheart," Ruemarie murmured, patting Lynn affectionately on the knee.

"You're welcome, Lynn," was Lark's reply. "Cro asked me to take you around the city today. Nothing real big, just to see how you do playing the part of a Master."

Lynn shook her head. The wind had started up again, and it was blowing through her new dress, sending parts of it billowing up around her legs. Again, Lynn wondered why people couldn't all wear pants. It was so much more practical.

"You'll need a name," Ruemarie was musing. "Something Masterly, with an air of authority about it."

"But I have a name," Lynn said confusedly. "It's Lynnet of the Verdant Forest."

Lark snapped her fingers. "How about Lynnet Versylva? 'Ver' from Verdant, 'sylva' from 'sylvan,' which means forest spirit. Do you like it, Lynn?"

"I-I guess. But what's wrong with my old name?" Lynn asked, perplexed.

"Just that most people don't go around saying that they're from forests."

* * *

Ruemarie had to rush back for her shop's afternoon shift shortly afterward, so it was Lark who Lynn followed through the passages beneath the Stadium. The older girl's strides were quick and long, and Lynn had to hurry in order to keep up. She tripped quite a few times on the uneven floor, and even more on the hem of her new dress. Finally, Lark took Lynn's hand firmly in her own and guided her the rest of the way out.

Upon emerging from the tunnels, Lynn blinked, not only at the sunlight, but at the familiar sight around her. Lark's route had brought them back to the train station.

Lark noted Lynn's stare with a smile. "In the old days, way before the Masters," she explained, "a big thievery ring used to have their headquarters in this city. They were responsible for building a lot of these old tunnels." The smile widened into a grin as Lark bent forward and whispered in Lynn's ear. "Over the years, we Ringed have taken the liberty of…_extending _some of those tunnels. We've got a network under the entire city."

Before Lynn could summon a reply, the older girl was extracting Lynn's former Gold Berry from a pocket. "Here's your first test," she informed Lynn briskly, depositing the gem-like fruit in Lynn's palm. "You're the one responsible for selling this trinket, as well as putting on the appearance that you're a full-fledged Master. Understand?"

"I-I guess, but I don't…"

Lark shot her a dazzling smile. "Trust me, you'll do fine," she said, grabbing Lynn by the arm and dragging her into the crowd.

Bodies pressed up against Lynn in one overwhelming flood, bodies covered in cloth, fur, leathery hide, and even scales. Overhead rang roars, laughs, and a veritable cacophony of other noises that made Lynn's head spin. She thought she felt her bones rattling as she was jostled from side to side, even losing her balance as a stray Cubone scuttled past her foot.

Just when she was positive that she'd fall and be trampled to death, Lynn felt herself being jerked through the crush of people and Pokémon. Looking breathlessly up, she saw they'd reached the edge of a long sidewalk. All along the concrete's length stood a row of buildings with large glass fronts. Some of them even had strange symbols drawn on them, similar to the ones Lynn had seen on Mother Woodwort's cloth and the train station sign.

Lark took the both of them to the very end of the line and showed Lynn a quaint little building half-hidden by the larger ones around it. Through the glass, Lynn glimpsed a display of painted figurines, strange rusted contraptions, and other unfamiliar odds and ends. With a push, Lark urged her towards the building's door.

"Just show the dealer the Berry and act natural," she whispered in Lynn's ear. "Remember, you're a Master! Just remember to be confident, and start the bargaining high. Like…let's see…" She then named a number that Lynn, even knowing very little of money, found impossibly large.

"Are you sure?" Lynn wanted to ask, but Lark had already pushed her through the door. It swung open with a breezy chime, forcing Lynn to abandon her conversation and step inside.

As soon she'd gotten a foot in, though, Lynn stumbled over a stack of boxes. And it wasn't just from her usual nerve-induced clumsiness. The building consisted only of one room, which was small, cluttered, and poorly lit. At the back stood a tall counter and display case. Lynn started towards it, holding onto the hem of her too-long skirt.

A draft brushed the back of her neck, accompanied by a feather-light touch on her shoulder. Turning around, Lynn saw that the door was still closed, and Lark was nowhere in sight. "H-hello?" she called out uncertainly. "Hello?"

Her eyes darted around, falling at last on the display case in front of her. Several small statues rested inside the case on separate velvet pedestals. Getting to her knees, Lynn peered in through narrowed eyes.

There were three statues, each a miniature of some fantastical-looking beast. One was of a creature with thick brown fur, its mask-like red and gold face contorted in a howl. Another, a golden beast with a billowing cloud atop its back, bore dark lightning-bolt streaks across its flanks. Lynn had never seen either one in her entire life. Frowning, she inched over to the very last statue, which stood at the far end of the case. She squinted, staring inside…

…and let out a yelp of horror.

It was the red-eyed demon that had attacked her for the Rainbow Wing, staring aloofly back in miniature.

"I see you like my statue of Suicune, young one," rumbled a raspy voice. "An ancient Pokémon god, Suicune is. Ruled over water and ice, and was said to roam the world as the north wind."

Jumping to her feet, Lynn gasped as a tendril of silk fell to the ground, followed by the withered body of an elderly Ariados. He scuttled behind the counter, all eight of his legs navigating the messy room with ease. "You may call me Scarbos," the Ariados said with a deep bow. "And what brings you to my humble shop?"

Despite the amiability of Scarbos's voice, the old Ariados still gave Lynn the creeps. Suppressing a shiver, she gulped out a rather garbled explanation and quickly held out the Gold Berry.

Scarbos eyed it critically through his bulging eyes. The mottled markings on his legs were, Lynn noticed, just as dull as the rest of the shop.

"Now where did a child like yourself chance upon something like this?" Scarbos said at last. "I have seen a Gold Berry only once before in my entire lifetime. And that has been quite a while."

Lynn gulped again. The shop owner's enormous, unblinking eyes seemed to fixate themselves on her face. Nervously, she fiddled with the ribbon in her hair and tried not to make eye contact. "It's…from the forest," she said at last, with the sinking feeling that she was saying something she should not.

"Ah, the forest." Scarbos's gaze did not leave Lynn's face. "There used to be Berry trees all over, you know. I can still remember. Then the cities started growing, and the trees started dying. Some were very unhappy with this change, I recall. They left the cities to live in the forests, just as they claimed our ancestors did long ago."

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Lynn's neck. "D-do you…think they're still there, then?" she whispered, unconsciously taking a step backwards.

"Perhaps," Scarbos replied vaguely. "And perhaps they have tired of forest life and returned to the cities, hmm?"

There was a crash as Lynn tripped over a stack of boxes behind her. Papers went flying in every direction. "Sorry," she squeaked, coughing in the ensuing cloud of dust. "I didn't mean to…"

"Quite alright," Scarbos interrupted her, extending one hairy forelimb to catch an airborne sheet. "Just hand me that paper lying right there, the one marked 'Ledger.' "

Helplessly, Lynn stared at the mess before her. Head reeling in panic, she grabbed one sheet, then an entire handful, and shoved the whole lot hastily onto Scarbos's counter.

The Ariados's eyes narrowed musingly. "Why, you poor dear. No one ever taught you to read, did they? I had another customer once, with the same problem. Coincidentally, that same customer also tried to sell me one of those rare Gold Berries. Perhaps he and you are related?"

Lynn cringed at the sarcasm in his voice. _He knows,_ she thought, horrified at the unintended slip-up. _He knows I'm not a real Master._ Though her first thought was to run, something stronger kept her rooted shakily in place. Maybe it was fear at what Cro and Lark and the others would do if she returned empty-handed, or determination at not screwing up the first job she'd been entrusted with. Whatever it was, it made Lynn look Old Scarbos in the eye at last.

"Since they're so rare, I hope you wouldn't mind paying me a reasonable amount for this Gold Berry," she said. As she named Lark's price, the authority in her own voice shocked even her.

Scarbos, too, seemed surprised by Lynn's sudden boldness. "Very well," he replied.

Lynn's eyes widened as Scarbos took the Berry from her hand and deposited a stack of light green slips in its place. Had it really been this easy all along?

When Lynn emerged from the shop several minutes later, Lark was waiting just around the corner. Seeing the money in Lynn's hand, she gave a whoop of joy and hugged the younger girl. "Attagirl, Lynn! I knew you could handle it!"

Despite all her previous inhibitions, Lynn found herself breaking into a shaky smile. "Th-thanks, Lark," she whispered, awkwardly handing the other girl the loose bills. A few of the flimsy slips fell through her sweaty fingers. They fluttered to the ground, only to be swept several yards further by a stray wind.

Lark laughed as a consternated Lynn awkwardly scrambled forward to retrieve them, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. "I think you're getting the hang of being a Master," Lark said, leaning back as she grinned at the younger girl. "Soon you'll be more than ready to meet Princess Himeka."

"Ah!" This time, Lynn tripped for real, landing right on her behind in the middle of the street. "Um, I-I don't know," she squeaked out, feeling incredibly silly yet again. "From what I've heard, Himeka seems really…picky about…her friends. I-I'm not very good at making friends." Lynn swallowed, vividly remembering the other children in the forest, who had either mocked or ignored her very existence.

"I'm…not very good…at being around other people," she finished lamely.

Lark laughed again at Lynn's worry-filled words. "Himeka may be an obnoxious brat," the older girl replied with a wry grin, "but she's easy to figure out. Seriously, if you spend even just an hour watching Himeka, you'll know practically everything about her. Here, I'll show you what I mean."

Eyes darting to the digital clock in a nearby store window, Lark indicated the display with a jab of her finger. "It's almost one o' clock." She shot Lynn what looked disconcertingly like a Cheshire Cat smile. "Follow me."


	17. Friends

Chapter Sixteen

**Friends**

* * *

Struggling not to trip over herself again, Lynn scurried after Lark. Without missing a step, the agile older girl expertly ducked and wove her way through a flurry of back alleys and side streets, before emerging in the middle of the crowded town square. There, she made her way through a continuous stream of pedestrians and vendor carts, with Lynn struggling to keep closely in tow.

As the two girls broke away from the bulk of the masses, Lynn noticed they had entered a rather different kind of neighborhood. Marble fountains encircled by lush verdant courtyards dotted the horizon, while perfectly identical trees decorated both sides of the neatly paved streets. Only a block away, a slender spire of a clock tower was chiming to mark the hour. Even a forest girl like Lynn, who had little idea as to what most of these things were, could sense that a place like this was _meant _to be set apart from the rest of the city.

"One o' clock," Lark said at last, pulling Lynn behind an orderly row of lilac bushes, "means little Princess Himeka has just finished her lunch at that café. She always sits alone, at the table farthest from the door." She indicated the building across the street, which opened into a small sunlit courtyard containing several heart-shaped tables, above each of which was stationed a pastel pink parasol. "And she always ends with a strawberry sundae," Lark added, not even bothering to look. "It's her favorite dessert."

Curious, Lynn peered through the bushes. Pressing her cheek close to Lynn's, Lark twisted her chin in the direction of a young Eevee with a red velvet ribbon around her neck, sitting alone at a nearby table. Sure enough, there was a slender-stemmed glass of sundae in front of her. However, it was still completely full – apparently untouched by its owner.

Himeka, for her part, was holding a strange pink object to her ear and chattering away at the air. "Who's she talking to?" Lynn asked, completely perplexed.

In an almost lazy motion, Lark's eyes swept from Lynn to the young Eevee at the table. "She's on the phone and forgot to eat her sundae," Lark said. "That means she's probably talking to her father again."

Blinking in even more confusion, Lynn strained to catch the several snippets of conversation that were drifting her way.

"You have to come tonight!" Himeka was saying, her high-pitched voice filled with excitement. "Everybody else is going! It's going to be so, so, so cool!"

After a moment's pause, the Eevee's voice suddenly grew petulant. "That's what you said last year and the year before!" she cried, bolting up in her chair and beating her fluffy tail against her chair. "Then come to the End of Festival Tournament at least! I won all my matches this year, you know! I'll definitely win, win, win this year! Please come this time! Please, please, _please_!"

Another pause, and the Eevee's small furry forehead furrowed. "Call me back?" she said. "Hello, hello, hello! Papa, don't go, I still…" She abruptly fell silent and slumped back down in her seat, then, body quivering, flung the object she'd been holding onto the ground. It hit the pavement below with a clatter.

"See?" Lark's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "You can read her like a book."

Slowly, Lynn nodded in presumed agreement. Inwardly, she was somewhat relieved. Based on the accounts of the Ringed she'd met the previous night, Himeka had sounded like a scary larger-than-life monster, someone to be feared and even despised. But watching the young Eevee halfheartedly pick into her dessert at last, getting globs of syrup all over her nose, Lynn thought Himeka looked like any other child.

"Here's your chance," Lark hissed, giving Lynn an unexpected shove in the back. With a yelp, Lynn wobbled and nearly plunged face-first the bushes in front of her. "Himeka always forgets to bring enough money to pay for her food," Lark went on, eyes still fixed on the café table where the young Eevee sat. "She always makes a big scene about it, too. Why don't you help her out this time?"

"R-right now?" Lynn squeaked out, shaking fallen lilac blossoms from her hair. "B-but I've just started being a Master! I don't know if I can…"

Lark shoved her in the back a second time, then shot Lynn another one of her dazzling smiles. "Hey, I didn't have you pawn off that Gold Berry as your first test for nothing!" she laughed. "Talking to Himeka is your second test."

"B-but…"

It was impossible arguing with a dynamo like Lark, who obviously didn't have the faintest inkling of what it was like to be hopelessly shy, easily tongue-tied, and completely, _utterly_, scared out of your mind. In only a few fleeting minutes, Lynn inevitably found herself heading towards the front of the dessert café, swallowing hard and trying not to glance nervously back over her shoulder. From the corner of her field of view, she could glimpse Lark waving jauntily at her from behind the row of lilac bushes.

Trying to stand up straighter so as to make a good impression, Lynn walked stiffly into the café courtyard. As she neared the still-eating Himeka, she tripped over the overly-long hem of her dress and, with a surprised squeak, grabbed frantically at the nearest available support.

Said support, an impeccably-dressed Machamp_ maître d'_, phlegmatically inclined his head towards Lynn. "Is there something the matter, Mademoiselle?" he asked in a gravely polite voice.

"A-ah no!" Releasing the Machamp's muscular arm, Lynn backed away and promptly bumped into an empty chair, knocking it to the floor with a jarring clang. "Sorry for the tr-trouble!" she managed awkwardly, bending down and trying to pull the chair back up, only to have it slide out of her clumsy hands with a second clatter.

Expression wholly unperturbed, the Machamp expertly reshifted his grip on the platters of crepes and cheesecake in his bottom two arms to his top two arms. "Perhaps I might assist Mademoiselle to her seat?" he offered somberly.

"A-ah, that's alright! Thank you!" Bowing her head, Lynn quickly darted to the side to let the waiter pass. Turning around to look for Himeka, she gave a small gasp of dismay. The Eevee's table had been completely vacated, leaving only a half-empty glass behind. As she swerved back towards the exit, she thought she could just catch a glimpse of a bushy Eevee tail whisking around the corner.

Hiking her dress to her knees, Lynn made to dash after Himeka's retreating form. A smart tap on the back of her shoulder, however, forced her to look back once more.

Clearing his throat, the Machamp waiter Lynn had spoken to before bowed his head and extended one of his four white-gloved hands. The small pink object Himeka had been talking to earlier –a "phone," Lark had called it– was nestled in his large palm. "Excuse me, Mademoiselle," he said to Lynn, "but do I believe Mademoiselle's friend has forgotten something."

"Oh!" Surprised, Lynn could only take Himeka's phone, shove it into her apron pocket, and respond with a small bow of her own. "Th-thank you, sir!"

The Machamp coughed politely. "And there is also the matter of Mademoiselle's friend's bill…" he murmured deferentially.

By the time Lynn had settled Himeka's financial deficits and left the café at last, Himeka herself was nowhere in sight.

"Lark!" Lynn panted as she rushed back to the lilac bushes. "Himeka's gone! I-I..!"

"She went that way," the older girl informed her, promptly pointing down a nearby street. "Better hurry up if you want to catch her."

"St-still…?"

"Go."

With one pert wink from Lark, Lynn knew there would be little good in belaboring the point. Still panting, she set off in the direction Lark had indicated. However, she regretted it as soon as she had done so. As Lynn swerved around the corner, her ears were nearly deafened by a ringing voice booming out overhead: "Let the Festival Parade begin!"

Immediately after, a discordant clap tore through the air, followed by a writhing flurry of thin, brightly-colored snakes. Lynn yelped and instinctively fell to the ground. The apparent snakes fluttered down around her, weaving weightlessly through the air as they descended. They were followed by a glittering rain of flat star-shaped fragments. As cheers and laughter resounded around her, however, Lynn staggered to her feet and took a wide-eyed look about.

She barely had time to register her surroundings before a loud surge of music began. The next thing Lynn knew, she was being shoved backwards against the swelling flow of the crowd.

"Ah! Excuse me! S-sorry!" Lynn squeaked out, limbs flailing. Ducking her head, she tried squirming her way to the side but tripped over the hem of her dress, almost taking out a Politoed trumpet player as she windmilled about. Without warning, the Politoed's long sticky tongue shot out and wound around her waist, pulling her back onto her feet before she could fall flat on her face.

"S-sorry, sir!" Lynn gulped, feeling her face flush. The Politoed gave her a small wink before lifting her over the crowd and depositing her on the side of the street. Lynn could only bow respectfully as the frog Pokémon's tongue snapped back to its owner, who proceeded to march dutifully onward with the rest of the players.

Wiping dirt and slime from the front of her dress, though that only seemed to further smear the whole mess, Lynn hurriedly made her way through the throngs of people and Pokémon that had gathered to watch the ongoing spectacle. After the trumpet players, she saw in bits and pieces through the crowd, came lithe dancers with feathered headdresses and iridescent ribbons, weaving back and forth in time with the tune. A shadow fell overhead moments later, forcing Lynn to glance up and drop her jaw in amazement. A larger-than-life replica of Jigglypuff was floating above the procession, bobbing merrily up and down as a team of Wigglytuff below pulled it along on silver strings. An equally enormous Charizard followed on a clanking wheeled contraption, its mechanical mouth unhinging every now and then to release a burst of actual flame.

Entranced, Lynn could have watched these strange sights all evening if not for mission Lark had entrusted her with before. A pang of panic issuing up from her stomach, she scanned across the crowd yet again for Himeka Madison's small form. Finding nothing, she scrambled the rest of the way down the road, gaze darting about in all directions.

_There!_ Spotting a patch of brown and white fur, Lynn made a beeline for a small pastry shop in the distance, from which pleasant aromas of wild strawberries and fresh melon were wafting out onto the streetside. A small Eevee, she saw quickly, was standing there with several other young Pokémon, her face pressed against the storefront glass as she eyed an assortment of elaborately decorated cakes.

"Ah, excuse m-me!" Lynn choked out as she rushed up behind them, huffing and puffing. In an instant, the eyes of several Pokémon in the group had turned to her, silencing previous streams of chatter. As the stares of the other children fell upon her flushed, panicking face, Lynn froze, reeling as her mind went numbingly blank. She had never, ever been remotely good at facing crowds. "Uh…I-I…"

"Do you want something?" one of the group, a delicate-looking Buneary with a pink bow around each ear, demanded.

"Who's that, Lottie?" her friend, a plump Torchic, broke in.

The Buneary gave a dismissive shrug. "I don't know."

As the group members began to turn away, Lynn stumbled forward again. "S-sorry!" she gulped out, ducking her head and staring fixedly at the ground so as not to lose the remnants of her nerve. "I-I want to talk to Hi-Himeka, p-please."

"Huh? You mean Himeka Madison?" There was a blank-eyed stared, followed by a decidedly not so delicate snort of realization from the Buneary. "Hey, Ami!" she hooted, twirling about and waving a slender paw. "Someone got you mixed up with _Himeka_!"

The Eevee in front of the window turned towards them and, in an instant, Lynn realized she had made a mistake. Instead of Himeka's red ribbon, this Eevee wore a golden collar studded with large yellow stones. Her eyes, larger than Himeka's and almost doe-like, narrowed upon registering what the Buneary had just said. "Gawd!" this Eevee exclaimed with a high-pitched squeal. "Not again!"

Before the abashed Lynn could even try to stammer out an apology, she was cut short by a chorus of laughter from the Eevee's friends.

"That's, like, the third time someone's mixed you up this week!" snickered the Buneary. "Since when did that loser get so popular?"

"You're one to talk, Lottie!" the Eevee with the golden collar retorted. "Didn't you invite Her Highness Snotnose to your party last weekend just so you could suck up to her for free final tournament tickets?"

The Buneary upturned her pert little nose with a "hmph!" of disdain. "Well, it worked, didn't it?" she said as she shook back her long well-groomed ears. "Himeka's a royal pain, but at least she's filthy rich."

"You're gonna have to sit with that prissy little daddy's princess at the tournament," the Torchic butted in with a giggle. "I wouldn't trade places with you for anything."

"As if!" the Buneary shot back, lip curling disgustedly. "I'll just tell her I can't make it when she calls, and go in later."

Lynn stood there awkwardly as the young Pokémon continued to banter, nervously trying to work up enough courage to interrupt. "A-ah, sorry then!" she managed at last, bobbing her head up in a rather strained attempt at eye contact. "M-mistake…my mistake!" Not daring to linger for any replies, she hurried past the group and didn't slow down until she could no longer glimpse them through the crowd and growing dusk.

As an unexpectedly cold breeze swept past, Lynn hugged her bare arms and slowed to an even more leisurely pace. Himeka Madison, or any other Eevee for that matter, was nowhere in sight at this point. Glancing up at the evening sky, which had deepened to a velvety blue with thin streaks of pale violet clouds, she squinted hard for several moments, trying to make out even one star. Even the lights of blinking shop signs, as well as the more muted glow of the many red lanterns strung across the alleyway, seemed to outshine the sky.

Lark, wherever she was, would probably be disappointed in Lynn's failure. Lynn shook her head slightly, resigning herself to this. It would be alright, she supposed. She could just try again – Lark herself would probably say that as well. Had she even really even expected Lynn to succeed in the first place? And if she had…well, then what would she and the others think of Lynn now? Lynn signed heavily as a sinking feeling surged through her stomach.

"What are you, some kind of stalker?"

The voice knocked Lynn out of her momentary daze of self-pity. Jumping a bit in surprise, she swerved around and let out a small squeak.

Himeka Madison was standing in front of her, head raised, ears pointed back, and eyes narrowed in an unambiguously unfriendly glare. The Eevee's velvet ribbon flailed about in the evening wind, before coming undone at the base and whipping through air in two long red streams.

"Don't act dumb!" Himeka snapped as Lynn gaped speechlessly on. "You've been following me since the café! You even asked to talk to me! What a creep! I don't even know you!"

Gulping hard, Lynn forced apart the hands she wringing together in stiff jerky motions. "S-sorry…" she managed finally. "I d-didn't mean…"

"Stay away from me, stalker!" With a final huff, Himeka fluffed out her tail and swerved around before marching back up the street. Without thinking, Lynn staggered after her small form.

"Wait!" she called, reaching out an arm before she could stop herself. "Y-you heard it?"

Himeka paused in mid-stride but didn't turn around. "What?"

"What they w-were saying about you?" Lynn ventured softly. She swayed on the spot for several moments, head bowed, staring down at Himeka's back and the tails of her undone ribbon writhing in the wind.

After several beats of silence, Himeka gave another huff. Twisting about, she glared directly into Lynn's frightened eyes. "Lottie's gang is stupid, stupid, stupid!" the Eevee yelled with an irritated twitch of her tail. "I don't care about those dummies! I'll show them all tomorrow, anyway! They can come and watch me sweep the tournament floor! I'll show them _all_!"

Lynn bowed her head again, not wanting to look the angry Himeka in the eye. "Even if you try to show them," she whispered at last, swallowing hard, "people like that…they won't see it. They don't…ever…want to."

"They WILL!" Himeka shot back hotly. "I'll make, make, _MAKE _them!"

Slowly, Lynn lifted her head, and, for a moment, girl and Eevee found themselves locked in a mutual stare. Lynn's own eyes widened slightly as they were caught in Himeka's defiant gaze, hateful and haughty and, most of all, so very unafraid. Himeka Madison was not the least bit scared of what other people thought of her. Angry, yes. But not scared. Himeka Madison was not the kind of person who would ever, ever, _ever _run away.

"What's your problem?" Himeka said, breaking the silence at last. She narrowed her eyes distrustfully at Lynn and stamped a front paw. "You want to make something out of that?"

Slowly, Lynn shook her head, still holding onto Himeka's gaze. "I-I want…I want to be your friend," she said honestly. As soon as the words had left her lips, she could feel her face flushing sheepishly. "S-sorry for saying this so suddenly, but…"

"What, what, what?" Himeka scoffed. She let out a barking laugh. "You want something from me, don't you? That's it, isn't it? Well, forget it! I don't, don't, _don't_ want to be friends with some weird smelly stalker!"

Lynn watched wordlessly as Himeka turned around and started stalking off. A sudden vibration against her stomach jolted her into a jump. With a burst of recollection, Lynn reached a hand into her apron pocket and pulled out the small pink phone that Himeka had left behind at the café, which was now shaking incessantly in her hand. "Ah, s-sorry!" she called after Himeka's retreating form. "You forgot this from before!"

"Leave me alone!" came Himeka's testy reply from down the street. Horrified, Lynn dashed after the Eevee, juggling the phone from hand to hand as it continued to buzz like an angry Beedril. She prayed fervently that it wouldn't decide to explode in her face and gave a second start of surprise when it started blaring out a musical tune.

Himeka's long ears twitched as the music reached them. Instantly, she was upon Lynn, leaping into the air, snatching the phone away, and landing back on her feet in one fluid motion. As Lynn watched on in confusion, the Eevee cracked open the phone with one paw and pressed an ear excitedly against its surface. "Papa?" she said, eyes lighting up in an expression markedly different from the petulant snarl she had worn just minutes before. Another pause, and the Eevee's small furry face lit up in patent delight. "Yay, yay, yay!" she exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. "Thanks, Papa! I promise you won't be disappointed! I'll definitely win, win, win!"

With another snap, the phone was closed and Himeka was back to glaring at Lynn. Lynn, for her part, could only shift uncomfortably in place. The sky had almost completely darkened into dusk by now, and it seemed so very cold.

"You got my phone dirty," Himeka said accusingly, indicating the stains of dirt and slime that had come from Lynn's hands with a jab of her small black nose.

"S-sorry."

A shadow in the streetlights fell over the patch of ground that Lynn had been staring so intently. Lynn's eyes traveled slightly upwards to find Himeka standing directly in front of her, head raised and loose red ribbon rippling in the breeze. With an unexpected pang, it reminded her at last of the ribbons that Alouelle always wore in her braids, which would often come undone and fly against her face as well.

"Why are you always saying sorry, sorry, sorry?" Himeka demanded, shaking her ribbon behind her head. "What do you have to apologize for all the time?"

"S-sorry! Ah, I mean…!"

To Lynn's surprise, the Eevee began to giggle. When Himeka laughed, Lynn thought, she looked very different. Before, she had been almost scary in her aggressive ferocity and single-minded convictions. Now...it was as if gazing upon a completely different Pokémon.

A sudden blaze of golden light illuminated the sky above the two of them, accompanied by a deafening boom. Lynn yelped and stumbled backwards, falling on her rear in the middle of the sidewalk. The boom sounded again and again, causing Lynn to crouch forward and cover her ears.

The brush of a small paw against her bare arm startled her even more. "It's just fireworks," Himeka said to the frightened girl. "Man, are you a scaredy cat! Silly, silly, silly!" She giggled again, then turned her gaze skyward. "Oooh oooh, look at that one!"

Lynn followed Himeka's animated pointing just in time to glimpse a tail of light rising from behind the rooftops. It soared into the heavens, bursting apart at the peak of its summit and shedding scintillating streaks in every direction. More lines of light followed the first in dizzying succession, shattering into glimmering fragments that rained across the night sky before dissipating into the all-engulfing darkness. Lynn found herself holding her breath as this otherworldly parade of blooming sparks shot across the abyss above. Unthinkingly, she found herself extending an upturned palm, as if she could catch a handful of these strange falling stars for herself.

"You're really weird," came Himeka's voice from below. The little Eevee broke into a cheeky grin as a startled Lynn looked down. "But I guess that's okay." Tossing her messy undone ribbon over her small shoulder yet again, she marched up to Lynn and extended a paw. "You should come and sit with me in the Festival Tournament tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm going to win for sure!"

As more of the so-called fireworks cascaded down in the distance, casting the sky in hues of red, blue, and all the colors in between, Lynn found herself smiling as well. Bending down, she reached out her own hand to take Himeka's small paw.

"I'm Lynn."

* * *

The practice yard was empty by the time Eppie returned. "Hello?" the girl called, ambling forward to the courtyard's center. Her own voice provided the only response as it echoed off the high stone walls.

Sighing disappointedly, Eppie sat down in the thick moss at her feet. Her mood quickly shifted as she caught sight of several blue flowers bobbing in the wind. A sunny smile spreading across her face, she flopped onto her stomach and inched eagerly towards them. Her finger was halfway to the outermost petal when a metallic glint caught her eye.

Glancing at the courtyard steps, Eppie spotted a heap of mud-stained cloth: Lynn's old clothes. They looked plain enough, lacking any kind of decoration or metal ornaments. They couldn't have produced the glint that had attracted Eppie's attention before. But then, what else was there? Unable to dismiss what she'd seen, Eppie curiously rose to her feet and walked over. Squinting hard, she bent far, far over…

And there it was! Something shiny just poking out from a shirt pocket. Entranced, Eppie found herself reaching forward with a strange and sudden fervor. The hidden object seemed to grow brighter and brighter the closer Eppie's fingers approached. With a gasp of delight, she closed her hand around the object and eased it out. Her arm trembled with awe as she raised it into the open air.

A metal carving of a fierce bird glittered there, breathtaking with its intricate lines and proud beauty. And dancing in the wind behind the carving were feathers. Big, beautiful rainbow-colored feathers! Eppie stared, transfixed by the play of light against the jewel-like colors. Her index finger descended, reverently stroking the glossy surface.

Then, without warning, the finger tensed. Eppie gasped as her hands began to change, right before her very eyes. The fingernails elongated, forming curved claws. And from the tips of these claws, a darker flush was materializing just underneath her pale skin. It surged up her arms, prickling her flesh as millions of tiny needles sprang up all over her body.

Eppie's jaw opened, but it was not of her own accord. She no longer had any control as her clawed fingers tightened around the Rainbow Wing. Suddenly, the metal surface no longer felt cool and smooth. Now, it was glowing hot orange and sending waves of unbearably hot pain shooting through Eppie's skin.

An unearthly snarl tore through the air, and it was to her immense shock that Eppie realized it had come from her own throat. Wind lashed across her face, twisting tendrils of her hair in all directions, as she took one step, than another, in the direction of the courtyard wall.

_Stop!_ she willed her body, trying desperately to wrench herself back._ Please stop! I don't want to jump! I can't!_

Another snarl ripped through the air. Eppie felt her muscles burning as they struggled against some fierce unseen force. Then, all of a sudden, her knees were giving way. The last thing she saw before she collapsed was that her hands were shrinking, that the rainbow feathers were slipping out of her grasp.

As she hit the ground, Eppie's eyes slipped out of focus, rolling into the back of her head. The Rainbow Wing landed with a metallic clink in the moss beside her, its feathers rustling in a sudden, bone-chilling wind.

Immediately after this clink, the nearby plants began to stir. First blades of grass, then petite leaves turned in the direction of the Wing and the unconscious girl. There was a combined swish as all the flowers in the courtyard swerved about at the same time. Petals fluttering, they bent their colorful heads not towards the sky, but instead to the ground.

By the time the others returned, an enormous green carpet engulfed the center of the courtyard. And at its middle, shielded beneath a pair of sunflowers, Eppie's face could just be seen. It was wreathed in sleeping bliss, as if nothing whatsoever was out of the ordinary. Even despite her tinged blue skin.


	18. Once Upon a Time

Chapter Seventeen

**Once Upon a Time  
**

* * *

"Just keep applying warm water." Lark lifted a wet rag from the steaming pot beside her to demonstrate. Squeezing some of the water out, she laid the cloth gently over Eppie's forehead.

Lynn nodded as water began to pool at the ends of the rag, dripping periodically onto the small cot they'd set up for Eppie.

"She should be alright," Lark told Lynn as they watched Eppie's sleeping form. A frown creasing her forehead, the older girl placed a hand on Eppie's arm. "She's so cold," she said, a momentary shiver running through her body. "Silly kid. She should've known better than to stay up here when it got so windy."

With a shiver of her own, Lynn recalled how they'd found Eppie earlier that night: half-buried under the courtyard plants, skin an unearthly shade of blue. She'd been shell-shocked at the sight, without a clue in the world what to do.

Lark, on the other hand, had remained her usual calm self. While Lynn had stood there staring in horrified disbelief, Lark had been the one to set up the cot and get hot water. She'd taken Eppie's situation in stride, as if something as strange as this happened everyday.

"S-sorry I'm not much help," Lynn said timidly, bowing her head.

"It's okay." Leaning in, Lark tucked the blankets over Eppie's prone body up to her chin. "Did things work out with Himeka Madison?"

Slowly, Lynn nodded. "Himeka is…she will, um…" Embarrassed, Lynn bit off her words in mid-stumble and tried to reign in her jumbled thoughts. "She said I could sit with her at the Festival," she said quickly. "If I wanted to."

"That's great," Lark said vaguely, though her smile was as kind as ever. "It'll help, Lynn. You'll be a definite help."

For several long minutes, pendent, half-formed thoughts hung heavily in the air between the two girls. Gulping, Lynn chanced a glance at Lark's smooth, unperturbed face, lips pursed in a faint, absentminded hum of lullaby as she looked over Eppie.

The pit of Lynn's stomach filled with slow sickly dread. Himeka with her small nose covered in syrup, Himeka setting her jaw defiantly as she claimed she would show up everybody who has teased her, Himeka with childlike awe reflected in her eyes as cascades of light coruscated through the sky. The images swirled around Lynn now, making her feel guiltier than ever. Himeka didn't know that Lynn was only pretending, that she was merely going to be a pawn in some ominous game. And what of the game itself? What would happen once Cro and the other Ringed made their preemptive strike?

"Lark," Lynn at last heard her own voice venturing softly. "What are you…Cro and the other Ringed…going to do to…to Himeka…and the others?"

Lark broke off her hum and smiled again. "It will be fine, Lynn," she said reassuringly. "Everything will be fine. Once we shut down the security plant, Ringed and Masters will finally be on the same level. That's a good thing, isn't it?" She smiled again, a gesture that belied the sudden vitriolic hiss that followed. "It's a lot better than what we might've done."

Startled by this unguardedly venomous outburst, Lynn looked up as Lark reapplied a second cloth to Eppie's forehead. The older girl's eyes had taken on a misty, distant look. "You don't have to understand us. You're lucky you don't." Lark's lips twitched into a small, odder kind of smile.

Lynn lowered her head once more. "M-maybe," she mumbled, staring down at her fingers as she intertwined them over and over. "Now that I'm here, though…aren't I-I'm one of you, too? In a way. M-maybe." In the ensuing silence, the boldness of her previous remarks overcame her. She bit her lip and folded her clammy hands against her chest.

Lark laughed quietly at this. There was no real levity or even mockery in her tone – it was too halfhearted to hold much emotion at all. "You, Lynn?" she said in a low, tired tone so much unlike her clear, confident self. "You're just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time." She laughed again, more forcefully this time.

"Then again, aren't we all? You, me. Poor Eppie, here." Her blue eyes glanced down at the peacefully sleeping girl by her side, whose skin was finally beginning to regain its normal flush. "Maybe Cro most of all," Lark said at last.

"Cro?" Lynn echoed in surprise. The image of strong, forceful, self-assured Cro clashed so stridently with that of a little lost child that, try as she might, there was no way to align the two in her mind.

"It's hard to understand now," Lark said with a wry smile. "You had to have been there when Himeka Madison first got Cro. Only me and Eppie were around back then."

"Eppie?" Lynn was more confused than ever. "But isn't Cro Eppie's big brother?"

"That's what Eppie says, I guess," Lark admitted. "But then…that's misleading. They're not related by blood, and there's a fair chance that Eppie's actually older than Cro. Back then, it was much more obvious. Cro was such a sorry sight when he first arrived; the scrawniest, dirtiest kid we'd ever laid eyes on. And so shy, so sullen. The only one he'd talk to was the malnourished little Pikachu that came with him."

"Sparkacus?" Lynn asked.

"Yep, though even Spark was more willing to open up than Cro," Lark affirmed with a nod. "No one thought Cro would ever amount to much; bratty little Himeka ranted for a week about how she'd got gypped into trading for him. Eppie, Epiphany she called herself back then, was the only one who really went out of her way to get through to him. She was one of the best battlers, yet she still went and showed Cro the ropes over at the Stadium. She acted as his battle coach when Himeka couldn't even be bothered. And now you see the results."

An image of Cro's lightning-quick sword flashing in her mind, Lynn nodded numbly. As hard as it was to imagine Cro as shy and scrawny, there was no way she could imagine Eppie as a battler, not to mention the best Ringed battler in the Stadium! Once glance at the serenely sleeping, fragile little girl made her mind reel at the impossibility.

"Most people don't believe that story, either," Lark said, reading Lynn's incredulous expression. "They don't know what Eppie was like as Epiphany, before the accident."

"Accident?"

"It was the Eighth Day of Festival that year," Lark continued, averting her eyes from Eppie's face. "I guess you could say the Stadium Master went a little crazy or something. Instead of having just a regular tournament, he decided that something a bit more intense would liven things up. The Stadium would pit their best Ringed battler against a whole horde of other Ringed. In a fight to the death. And guess who that lucky best battler was?"

"Poor Eppie," Lynn whispered.

"She didn't die, obviously," Lark said with a forced laugh. "Though she came very, very close. And when Epiphany recovered, she wasn't the same person. Her mind had been badly damaged." Lark made a circular motion above her ear and shrugged sadly. "It was as if a part of her really did die during that battle. Without that lost part, she became this. Not Epiphany, the amazing battler who looked over everybody else. Just Eppie, some helpless girl with the mentality of a little kid."

Her hand, Lynn noticed, had been wringing and rewringing the same cloth for last several minutes. "Cro was the hardest hit, I think," Lark said softly, over the soft drip of the rag. "In one night he'd lost Epiphany and wound up with this little girl who followed him around everywhere and called him 'big brother.' And so he changed, too. For her. For all of us."

Lark's voice surprised Lynn with its deep and sudden bitterness. "You see what the Masters have done to us, forest girl?" she asked. "You see why we fight? Heck, we've all got our reasons, but they're really all the same. What the Masters are doing is wrong, and we can't let any more people suffer because of it. No matter what, we can't afford to keep running or hiding anymore." Her eyes glittered for a moment, then refocused on Lynn's face. "What is it?"

Lynn shook her head hurriedly, just realizing the incredulous expression she'd been wearing only seconds before. "Nothing!" she cried. "It's just that…" Her words spilled clumsily out before she could stop them. "I never thought of people like you or Cro as people who'd run away." _You're some of the bravest people I know._

Lark wasn't mad. She didn't even laugh away Lynn's awkward statement. "It's a strange person who _doesn't_ run away from something," she replied instead, looking away from Lynn. Silvery strands of hair fell over her face as she re-examined Eppie's arm. "Believe me, I've run away from a lot more than I'd like to admit. So if you stay to fight…it better be for a good one."

"Why do you fight, Lark?" Lynn asked in a small whisper.

Licking her lips, Lark smiled that odd little smile. "I was actually born a Master," she said in an all-too detached voice, "but I was also a pathetic little nothing that none of the other Masters wanted anything to do with. This one Ringed, though, would always smile at me when I passed by. Every day I saw him, he'd still be smiling that same stupid smile. Even when the other Masters' kids kicked him around, even when his own Master beat him like an animal, not caring who was watching. I guess he never knew any better. Stupid."

Her eyes hardened, though her voice remained as monotonous as ever. "I never said anything against his Master when he was still alive," Lark went on softly. "I never said anything when he died and they called it an accident. When I got older…ha, I was always on the run. Got arrested for theft, arson, assault, running from the police over and over again…so many things I don't remember. But I always remembered that I never said anything."

Lynn watched the older girl's composed profile with horror – even with words like that coming out of her mouth, Lark allowed as little expression onto her face as she had that night in the courtyard. How she could remain so apathetic was beyond Lynn's ability to fathom. Taking a closer look, she realized the truth. Despite Lark's cold, impassive semblance of sang-froid, the older girl's hands were trembling.

"I became a Ringed as my final punishment," Lark went on. "Since then, I've been trying to turn my life around. Trying to change myself." The end of the sentence caught in her throat, and when she went on, it was no longer in that carefully controlled, far-too toneless voice, but, instead, a low, almost dangerous murmur. "I've found my voice now," Lark whispered, lips curling with each terse word. "I've found a reason to fight. For me, it ends here."

Lark was quiet after that. When she finally left a quarter of an hour later, with instructions for Lynn to keep taking care of Eppie, Lynn could only breathe a sigh of relief. Stripping off the dress she'd been forced to wear all day, Lynn shook out her hair and reached for her regular clothes. Something about the lightness of her shirt, however, made her examine the pockets more closely.

The Rainbow Wing was gone!

Heart racing in panic, Lynn scrambled desperately around the courtyard. She made quite a clamor as she skid across the stone steps and plowed through thick tangles of vegetation.

On the cot at the far end of the courtyard, Eppie's small body stirred in what might have been restless sleep. As the oncoming evening sent a chilly wind howling across the courtyard, one of Eppie's eyes shot open.

The pupil had contracted to no more than a pinprick, and the surrounding iris had enlarged to fill the entire eye. Its gentle amber had been replaced by a brilliant blood red.

Never once blinking, the red eye swerved downward. It rested briefly at the crook of Eppie's skinny arm, where a glint of metal could just be discerned, before snapping shut once more. Eppie slept on, though she tossed and moaned as if her dreams had suddenly grown troubled.

* * *

As the morning breeze rushed over the courtyard, a small figure dashed up the steps, throwing out its arms for balance.

From her perch atop the stone steps, Lynn allowed herself a half-smile. It had been only two days since her first escapade as a Master, and already she was used to this new morning routine. Wake up with sun's first rays, comb out her hair, put on her fancy clothes, and wander into town. And somehow, the too-large outfit no longer tripped her up…at least, not quite so much. The crowds in the city had seemed to magically grow smaller, the crisscrossed roads less crooked and easier to navigate. Thanks to her newfound confidence, she no longer felt so nervous about being a Master.

Tonight, at the Festival Tournament, Lynn was supposed to meet Himeka Madison again. Lynn didn't know what would happen then, if Himeka would decide that Lynn was no longer worthy of her attention, or if others would scorn her every attempt to fit in. But it was alright. Lynn had gotten this far – surely it wasn't such a daunting, impossible task to go a little farther.

In fact, if it hadn't been for the mysterious disappearance of the Rainbow Wing, Lynn could have grown quite accustomed to her new life. But no matter how used she grew to her once daunting surroundings, the dying words of Aeolus the Fearow still echoed in her mind.

_Swear you will guard the Wing with your life. Under no circumstances must it fall into the hands of another!_

She hadn't understood what to do with it. She barely understood what route her own life was taking. But despite all, Lynn could not ignore her own conscience. She had to find the Rainbow Wing before someone else did! Someone like the red-eyed demon, the godly Suicune, or even…

Sparkacus's voice sounded in Lynn's mind. _Cro thinks that he is meant to be the last heir. To discover you, not himself, is the true wielder of the Rainbow Wing…I do not fancy the thought of what he might do._

Lynn shivered, the comb in her trembling hand nearly scraping into her scalp. But she forced her smile to widen at the person who had arrived earlier. "Good morning, Eppie," Lynn called as she lowered the comb.

The smaller girl skipped over, face flushed so healthily it was impossible to tell she'd nearly froze to death two days before. "Hi, Lynn," she chimed happily, seating herself only a step below Lynn. "I found a new flower yesterday! Over here…what's its name?"

This had become a common question of Eppie's over the last few days. The little girl was fascinated by the wild plants in the courtyard and never failed to find a new flower or vine to inquire about. Already, Lynn's surprise at Eppie's puerile enthusiasm had worn off. Despite all of Eppie's quirks, Lynn found herself beginning to enjoy her company. A couple of wildflowers were a strange sort of bond. But it was growing steadily, helped by Eppie's simple, unconditionally amiable nature.

Obligingly, Lynn bent to the curly stem in front of the lowest step and placed a finger on its pale blue buds. They were near full bloom, their black tips just starting to peel apart. "We always called them 'god tears,' " Lynn said, smiling fondly at the memory. "Look…" She pinched the bud gently open, revealing an indigo center not unlike an eye's pupil.

"God tears," Eppie repeated with relish, laying flat on her stomach to peer at the plant. Lynn sat back, shaking out her hair and reaching for the red ribbon in her lap. Eppie's inquisitive voice broke through her concentration a second later. "There's a story behind that name, isn't there?" she asked, bright amber eyes staring expectantly at Lynn.

_How'd she know?_ Lynn thought almost amusedly. Indeed, if it had been anyone else besides Eppie, she might have been nervous, even wary. But Eppie's innocent, eager gaze dispelled any anxiety. Taking a deep breath, Lynn tried her best to compose herself. In her mind's eye, she could see old Mother Woodwort folding her withered hands, the first words of her story spilling out in a hushed whisper.

"You're right, Eppie," Lynn told her. "There is a story…"

* * *

_Once upon a time, Pokémon Trainers and Pokémon lived together under the same sky. Some of these Pokémon were content, for the Trainers treated them with love and respect. Other Pokémon were not, for they were treated cruelly and carelessly. Other Humans who saw what was happening felt deep anger at the ways of the Trainers. Many wild Pokémon were also unhappy with how the Trainers had taken control of the world, snatching away their land and family at every whim. All slowly grew to despise the Trainers with all their hearts._

_The day soon came when battle cries shattered the air and blood saturated the fields. Pokémon fought Trainer and Trainer fought Pokémon, until the dust was so high that neither side could tell whom they were fighting._

_High above the bloodstained earth, the bird of the seven feathers and its godly fellows watched the slaughter. Many of the gods wanted to step in and force the fighting to stop. They filled the heavens with their impatient bickering, then torrents of heated arguments. As each of the gods sided with different sides of the war, the anger grew and grew. Underneath their mighty powers, volcanoes blew apart, lightning scoured the earth, and the raging ocean nearly drowned the land._

_The bird of the seven feathers saw the catastrophic effects that ensued upon the Humans and Pokémon of the earth. Determined to end the gods' quarrel, the bird flew in front of the sun and wrapped its enormous wings around it. The earth fell into darkness for seven long days._

_But, alas, the heat of the sun burned the brave bird's body into black ashes, which rained from the heavens for seven days._

_Seeing these ashes fall from the sky, the gods were shocked by the bird of the seven feathers' noble sacrifice. Realizing their folly at long last, they made a pact._

_From that time on, none of them would meddle with the earth below during the war's course. Though not all of the gods were satisfied with this resolution, they were forced to endure it for both their own sake and that of the inhabitants below._

_It is true that some tried to resist. Several of the more stubborn gods continued fighting, while others furtively attempted to aid their favored sides. But such rebellious displays were harshly punished by their fellows. There are even tales of one soft-hearted god who, in trying to rescue a Human girl from an icy battlefield, was banished from the heavens for its supposed transgression. As a result, most of the gods eventually came to acknowledge the pact of inaction unchangeable._

_One god, however, was less willing to accept this change than the rest. It could not stand to know the immensity of the suffering below, along with the fact that nothing could be done to stop it. For many days, this god shed its tears. These tears fell upon the earth and turned into flowers with petals as gauzy as clouds._

_Throughout the land, these flowers acted as the god's eyes. The god saw many horrible things as the battle between the Trainers and the Pokémon progressed. And finally, these things convinced the god to act._

_It could not go against the pact; it could not meddle with earthly affairs during the horrible war. But that did not stop it from acting before or after. Ever since, that determined god has been traveling through time, seeking to change events in both faraway past and future to alter the war's destructive course._

_If you ever see the flower of the god tears bobbing nearby, you can rest assured that the god of past and future is watching over your own time. Someday, you may even catch a glimpse of said god, flitting through the trees or into the sun. Wherever you may be, look fast. For the god of past and future is always disappearing, into just that._

* * *

As Lynn awoke from her storyteller's trance, a clearing of the throat sounded above her head. "That's a good story. And you tell it well."

Lynn half-bolted, half-fell off her perch on the courtyard steps. "Cro?"

The shadow over her head shifted. As the tall boy stepped back, Lynn caught a glimpse of Sparkacus's lightning-bolt of a tail. "Go on," she thought she heard the Pikachu whisper, giving Cro a nudge with its nose.

"I know, Spark!" Cro hissed back, shooting his Pikachu companion a scowl. Straightening, he took a step forward and…to Lynn's complete surprise…sat down right next to her. "Hey," he said, folding his bronzed arms over his knees. For a minute or two, neither he nor Lynn chanced a word. Lynn could see Eppie and Sparkacus romping about in the distance; the girl laughing merrily as the Pikachu chased her through the wildflowers.

"This place looks nicer than when I was last here," Cro attempted at last, staring at the miniature forest before him. "You…" His words trailed off, leaving both of them in silence once more.

Eppie and Spark's happy shouts sounded in the distant background. "You're…n-not mad about what happened to the courtyard, then?" Lynn asked tentatively.

Cro's head jerked up with a start, and this time, he looked her straight in the face. "Why'd I be mad about something like that?"

When Lynn didn't answer, he sighed loudly and closed his jet black eyes. "Look, Lynn of Viridian…" He bit his tongue before going on. "Lynn. Lark's been telling me how well you've been doing lately, as a Master. Which I know is no easy task, especially since you just got here a couple days ago."

_Cro, complimenting me?_ Lynn thought in disbelief. It was all she could do to keep herself from bolting up and backing away against the wall.

Cro didn't seem to notice Lynn's unease. Pushing a shock of dark hair from his forehead, he went on. Looking, if possible, even more nervous and less Cro-like than before. "What I'm trying to say is that, well…I'm sorry for yelling at you before. It didn't occur to me how brave you were to come here and stand up to me."

Lynn could not help but gawk. First Sparkacus, now Cro, had told her she was courageous. And what pained her most was that they could not be further from the truth. _I'm scared of just about everything, _Lynn reminded herself sadly. _I ran away from my coming-of-age party. I ran away from Wreander in the forest. I even ran away from kind little Feldspar._

_It's a strange person who **doesn't **run away from something,_ Lark's voice whispered in Lynn's head.

_People who are brave don't run away from every little thing!_ Lynn cried in mental protest._ I do!_

"You stood up to me that day in the courtyard," Cro repeated, looking directly at Lynn. "You told us your story, even though me and Vixory must've scared you half to death. And you became a false Master, just to help us. You're not half bad, Lynn, and we're…I'm….glad to have you on our side."

His gaze turned to the sky, where lazy tufts of cloud were just beginning to gather. "Today's the eighth, the last, day of the Festival," he told Lynn. "Tonight's when it all comes together. I'll be honest; I didn't like Vixory's idea to use you, at first. Heck, I only went along with it because the others seemed to take to it much better than…well, you don't need to know."

He took a deep breath before going on. "But if you can pull this last ruse off, I'll forever be in your debt, Lynn of Viridian. As soon as me and the others are free, I know we can help the rest of the Ringed. And I have full faith you'll get us there."

The intensity, the earnestness, of Cro's gaze was too much to bear. As Lynn looked away, she could feel her face flushing uncomfortably hot. "Th-thank you," she forced out at last. "I-I…I'll try my best. B-but there's something…you don't know. And should…I-I guess. About the last heir, I…"

The clink of metal on stone broke through her words. Cro's head jerked around, Lynn's only a split-second behind.

Eppie stood knee-deep in a cluster of god tears, amber eyes wide. At her feet glimmered a piece of metal, just visible through the masses of green vine and sky-blue buds. Along with several snatches of rainbow plumage.

Lynn's heart skipped a beat, freezing her body in place.

"What the…?" Cro started, bolting to his feet. "Eppie, where the heck did you get that?"

Slowly, Eppie bent and retrieved the Rainbow Wing. "I don't know," she said, shaking her head frantically. "It just appeared in my pocket, just now!" The iridescent feathers dangled off her palm as she hastily took a step backwards.

Lynn didn't blame her. She'd seen Cro angry before, but this was something completely different. The boy's entire face had blanched, leaving it a sickly ashen color. Every part of his body had seemed to freeze in that single instant of discovery. His mouth was still slightly parted, his body still tilted slightly forward. The only movement came from the heaving of his chest, the only sound from his gasping, rapid breaths.

"I don't know where it came from!" With a startled yelp, Eppie tripped and fell into the flowers. "I'm sorry!" she gasped from where she knelt, body quivering. "Epiphany was…Epiphany said I…oh, big brother! I didn't mean to hurt you! I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

"I-It's not her fault!"

In an instant, Cro had regained control of his limbs and swerved about. Lynn ignored his blazing eyes and stumbled on. "The Rainbow Wing, it's mine! A dying Fearow gave it to me. It told me to find the other feathers, to bring back the bird of the seven feathers! And make sure that the Wing was never taken away!"

Inhaling shakily, Lynn hung her head. "I failed," she whispered.

Through her forming tears, she could see Cro reaching down, and straightening with the Rainbow Wing in his hand. She could see his hand tightening and his arm tensing before her. Stifling her gasp, she shut her eyes.

"So it was your duty to bring back the bird of the seven feathers." Cro's voice was no more than a whisper. "You were the last heir, just like Eppie said."

She hated the calmness in his voice. "I'm _not _the last heir!"

A metallic clatter shattered the air. Lynn flinched. When she gathered enough courage to look up, Cro's retreating back was heading for the staircase. The Rainbow Wing lay at her feet with its feathers askew, hooks still rattling.

"Cro!" Sparkacus's voice rose in alarm. "No matter how upset you are, you can't allow this to change anything! The plan for tonight, the plan with Lynn…"

"Shut up, Spark!" Cro snarled, nearly bowling the Pikachu over in his attempt to get past. "Everything changes now, don't you see? It doesn't matter what the others think. We can't use her anymore! So shut up and get out of my way!"

"Big brother," Eppie whispered, amber eyes quivering. She extended a pleading hand as he approached. "I…"

"_I am not your brother!_" Cro roared, shoving past Eppie. Sparkacus dashed after him, squeezing through the door with only an inch to spare. The clang of the trapdoor reverberated in the courtyard a good while after Cro's footsteps stormed all the way down the passage.

"I…I'm sorry."

Lynn watched dully as Eppie murmured these last words. Without another sound, the small girl collapsed into the patch of god tears. Her body curled itself into a tight, unmoving ball, her face twisting about so that it was buried in the foliage. She did not move even as the wind rustled about her head, tugging fiercely at her scraggly tuft of a ponytail.

Lynn, too, lacked the will to rise. Even as the wind picked up and the stone steps grew cold beneath her. All she could do was maintain the cold Master's mask she had practiced so often over the last few days, biting her lip in order to not cry.

* * *

Another body flinched as Cro slammed the heavy trapdoor. But unlike the two girls, this individual did not curl up and freeze on the spot. In fact, every muscle in his body was trembling.

"So that's the Rainbow Wing," Null Allegard muttered from the Stadium rooftop. Hands still shaking, he slowly tucked a pair of binoculars back into his voluminous pockets.

"Knew ya lead me to it sooner or later, Cro," Null whispered to himself. "But I didn't know _that_."


	19. Written in Stone

Chapter Eighteen

**Written in Stone  
**

* * *

As the Magnet Train raced down the track, en route to the Midnight Mesa, the train's sole passenger watched the scenery pass with a heavy heart.

Sighing, Feldspar Earthshaker folded his stubby arms and sunk into his seat. The little Larvitar's reflection gazed forlornly back at him from the train window. _Why the long face, Feldspar? _Uncle Obsidian had asked him during the Festival party. _Aren't you having fun?_

_Of course I am, _Feldspar recalled himself replying vaguely. _Just sad that tomorrow's the last day of holiday, you know. Then it's back to school for me._

But now, as he headed back to the Midnight Mesa Academy alone on the train, there was no need to keep on lying to himself and maintain a cheerful façade. Closing his eyes, Feldspar let his thoughts rest heavily upon his heart, nearly crushing it with their sudden weight. And when he could bear the pressure no longer, the Larvitar bolted onto his feet.

"I'm going back to school!" Feldspar cried determinedly from atop the plush seat cushion. "I will drop this crazy depression thing and be happy!"

But his father's harsh voice still rang unbearably in his mind. _There will be no arguments between you and me, Feldspar! _Corundum Earthshaker had bellowed at his son. _YOU are going to become the Verdant Stadium Master whether you like it or not!_

"Happy!" Feldspar yelled, shaking his head wildly from side to side to rid it of such memories. "I _will_ be happy! Everyone _will be happy_!" Panting, he slumped back into his seat, working furiously to drive each and every upsetting thought out of his mind. The spacious train compartment fell into silence once more, save for the steady buzzing of the train itself.

A sudden tap at the window made Feldspar glance up. Long branches were grasping at the glass, snapping back with sharp clicks as the Magnet Train hurtled past. A small smile crept onto the Larvitar's face as the track ascended, revealing a stretch of emerald green treetops below. A mess of tangled dark hair flashed in his mind, along with a pair of wide brown eyes…

"Whatever happened to that girl, Lynn?" Feldspar mused. "Wonder if she made it around Verdant City okay."

A second face took the place of the first. This one was pale and small, but overflowing with happy gratitude. "And Eppie," Feldspar added absentmindedly. "I hope she made up with her brother."

The image of Eppie's face brought a stream of words along with it. The important thing is you can't back out! Else you're just making life miserable for yourself, which'll probably make life miserable for him, too, a small voice whispered in the back of the Larvitar's head. To Feldspar's consternation, he realized it was his own. You're not doing it to make him angry, he had told Eppie so confidently about her brother. You're doing it so you and him can finally see eye to eye –to make things happier for both of you!

"That's not so much to ask for, is it?" Feldspar mumbled to himself, falling back against the cushioned seat. Idly, he watched the snatches of forest fall away below. "I just wanna make us all a little bit happier…"

Before he could complete the thought, however, Feldspar went flying into the seat in front of him, then tumbling into the aisle. Getting dazedly to his feet, he realized that the Magnet Train had screeched to a stop. "What's going on?" he yelped.

The train rumbled, sending a strong vibrating sensation coursing down its length. Feldspar clenched his jaw to keep his molars from rattling about. "Is s-something w-wr-wrong?" he stuttered as the rumbling intensified.

With an approving hum of static, the train began to move. Once again caught unaware, Feldspar toppled forward and crashed into the front of the compartment. "Oh man!" the Larvitar yelped. Springing back onto his feet, he scrambled to the closest window and stared out. Treetops were zooming past in a green blur, getting closer with every passing second. Feldspar could only gape as the train descended low enough for several branches to brush against the windows. "We're going the wrong way!" the Larvitar cried. "We're going back the way we came!"

Back to Verdant City.

Feldspar's jaw dropped. "Hey, who do you think you are!" he exclaimed, shaking a fist at the ceiling. "My conscience or something?"

The train gave a little buck of satisfaction, throwing Feldspar across the compartment once more with an unpleasant jolt. "What are you thinking? I can't go back!" the Larvitar moaned. He picked itself up, rubbing at a newly-developed bump underneath his stony skin. "Dad wouldn't listen to me before, so what're the chances of him listening now? It's hopeless, I tell you! Really, truly, cross-my-heart hopeless!"

Another buck sent him clattering to the other end of the train compartment. "Well," Feldspar grumbled as he sat back up. "If you're going to be ornery about it…"

The Magnet Train fizzled smugly, throwing a spray of sparks against the windows. Despite himself, Feldspar found a wide grin spreading across his face. Hoisting himself onto the nearest seat, he yelled out loud and clear.

"No one makes a hypocrite out of Feldspar Earthshaker, especially not himself! On to Verdant City!"

* * *

"My, that's a lot of flowers, Master Earthshaker."

Stifling an unwanted yawn with his large stony paw, Stadium Master Corundum favored the Human Stadium worker in the doorway with a weary smile. "Just appeared on my desk the other day, and they've been growing ever since," he replied, a second yawn breaking through despite his previous precautions. Wearily, he flicked a knot of vines off the back of his chair, then a spray of red flowers off his pencil holder. "Something the matter, Connelly?"

"There's someone waiting in the lobby right now. Says he needs to talk to you right away."

Corundum frowned. "It's the night of the biggest tournament of the year, and I've still got arrangements to make," he sighed. "Can't you tell whoever it is to come back tomorrow?"

"You might want to see who it is, sir."

Sighing, Corundum stood and shoved his chair in. "I'll be right down."

Several minutes after the tired Tyranitar had disappeared down the hall, a second Pokémon dashed in through a different set of doors. "Hey, hey, hey!" came the shrill voice of Himeka Madison as she scampered up to Corundum's office. "I'm here to register my Ringed for the tournament tonight!"

She giggled to herself as she shoved open the office door and peered inside. "Hey, hey, hey? Anyone here?"

Ignoring the fact that the lights were off and the room was obviously empty, the exuberant Eevee pup bounded right in. "Mister Stadium Master!" she called, hitting the light switch to illuminate the room. "Where are you?" Receiving no answer, Himeka pursed her pert mouth into a pout. "Aw, nuts," she said disappointedly. "I gotta register now! Papa's coming and everything! He'll be so confused if I'm not there when I said I'd be!"

A heavy vine that had been teetering on the edge of the desk fell at Himeka's front paws, startling her into a jump. Looking up at Corundum's flower-encrusted desk, Himeka's small forehead wrinkled in thought. "There's gotta be a schedule or something here!" she cried, leaping up and down for a better look.

Spying the swivel chair next to the desk, the Eevee's face lit up. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, she hopped onto the chair's seat. "Whee!" she screamed happily, seizing the edge of the desk drawer with her tail and pushing to spin herself around.

Corundum, however, had forgotten to lock the desk when he left. The drawer came open as Himeka grabbed at it, nearly knocking the little Eevee off the chair.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Himeka yelped, hastily clutching at the open drawer for support with her small paws. She sneezed several times as pollen from a nearby flower got into her nose. As she looked for something to wipe her face on, her large black eyes fell upon the drawer's contents. Papers here, a couple staples and yellowed leaves there…

"I'll leave a message for Mister Stadium Master!" Himeka proclaimed, pulling out a yellow memo pad and ballpoint pen with her mouth. As soon as she'd finished jotting down said message, she reached for the handle of the open drawer, hoping to spin herself around on the chair one more time. As Himeka looked down, however, her eyes fell on the long black box that had formerly rested underneath the removed memo pad.

"Ooh! What's this?" she squealed, prodding out the box with her tail. She squinted, grinning when she realized it was the same box that Feldspar had given Corundum when he'd arrived. Prying it open with her small paws, she gazed inside and gasped at the long feather inside.

"Pretty, prettier, prettiest!" she cried, captivated by the iridescent play of colors across the feather's surface.

Glancing around a second time to make sure nobody was watching, Himeka furtively closed the box and leapt off the chair. Clutching the box, along with its precious contents, in her mouth, she stepped into the hall and scampered out the way she'd come.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Feldspar arrived in Verdant City, and his initial enthusiasm was already starting to wan. His spirits had been high as he'd stepped into the Verdant City train station. His step had been sure as he'd marched towards the marble arches of the Stadium. But now, sitting in the lobby below his father's office, Feldspar began to have second thoughts.

_My lack of common sense is going to get me killed one of these days, _the young Larvitar thought ruefully. _Along with my lack of tact, planning, and self-control. Yeah, all of my faults are probably sitting in a little room and plotting my demise right now…_

_ Oh man, why'd I come back? Feldspar, I've heard of being impulsive, but this has gone way too far! The smart thing to do would be to get back on that train and hightail it outta…_

"Feldspar?"

Feldspar nearly jumped a foot out of his seat. Looking up, he saw his father was looming over him, brow furrowed. "Shouldn't you be getting back to school?" Corundum asked, looking more confused than anything else.

"Hey…Dad…" Feldspar stretched his face into a too-wide, too-bright grin that belied his growing panic. He'd been brimming with indignant arguments and confident counters back on the train. Now, when he needed them the most, not a single one remained.

_Thanks, faults._

"Hi, Dad…um…nice seeing you again, huh?" Feldspar said lamely. The lobby, devoid of all people save for himself and his father, was stiflingly silent. Feldspar gulped, suddenly wanting to curl up and burrow under the cushion seats. _C'mon, Feldspar! _he yelled at himself mentally. _You got this far! No point in backing out now!_

Bracing himself against the arm of the couch, Feldspar cleared his throat. "Well…er, I'm back. Well…um, I guess you can see that, since I'm here and everything. Heh, that's silly of me, trying to tell you what you already know, Dad." A nervous giggle popped out, much to the Larvitar's consternation. "Um, so…the thing is I…I think I kinda left last time on a sour note."

"A sour note?" Corundum echoed.

"Yeah, you know. Rolled off the wrong side of the bed. Spilled the milk and made it curdle. Put a bad foot forward and tripped down the stairs…."

"Feldspar, I know you're upset about what happened," Corundum said, breaking through his son's babbling. "And I'm sorry. However, I still stand by my decision. And if trying to change my mind is why you came back, I'm afraid you're wasting your time."

"That's the problem, Dad!" Feldspar exploded at last. "How can I hope to change your mind if you never listen to me!" Not even pausing to take in Corundum's startled expression, he rushed impulsively on. "Having me become the Stadium Master's a big deal, and I know it's important to you! But it's important to me, too! Maybe even more important!"

Panting, Feldspar swiped at his eyes, ignoring the fact that his paws came away wet. "Dad," he whispered, voice breaking. "This is probably the biggest decision I'll ever make in my entire life. Don't I get any say in it at all?"

There was no answer, only a speechless stare from Corundum. Gulping at his father's disbelieving gaze, Feldspar sat straighter and tried his best not to sniffle.

"Feldspar," Corundum said at last. "I know becoming the Stadium Master will be difficult for you. But still, you need to try."

Feldspar stiffened, a million arguments finally starting to coalesce in his head. To his surprise, his father sighed heavily. "Enough," Corundum said, putting up a broad paw. "Before you say another word, there's something I want to show you."

Curiosity piqued, Feldspar slid down from the couch. The Tyranitar's feet thudded against the tile floor as he led his son to the front of the lobby. "Do you know why we celebrate the Eight Days of Festival, Feldspar?" Corundum asked.

"Um…"

Feldpar's eyes followed Corundum's to the wall, where a stone carving was displayed. It was a rather old piece of art, one that Feldspar had never thought to take much notice of before. The engraving's once deep grooves had grown weathered, and the surrounding frame tarnished, long ago. The picture itself looked simple, consisting of only bold, broad strokes. Eight stylized figures had been carved around a circle, though whether these figures were Human or Pokémon Feldspar could not tell.

"The Festival is built up around a legend," Corundum explained. "Long ago, many of the cities in this region were destroyed. Their inhabitants were driven out and slaughtered while ashes rained from the skies. It's said that the land fell into a dark age, during which much of the past was forgotten. To this day, no one knows what could have triggered such destruction, though there have certainly been many theories."

Corundum paused for the slightest moment, then coughed as if to admonish himself for straying off-subject. "At any rate," he continued, "after centuries of turmoil, eight individuals supposedly rose up and resurrected the eight major cities. Under their rule, the cities flourished, and the land began to prosper once more."

"Hey!" Feldspar exclaimed, eyes wide. "I remember hearing about this in school! They were called the Council of Eight, right?"

"Yes," Corundum asserted with a nod. "We now know them as the Council of Eight. The Eight Days of Festival were created in their honor, and the cities they resurrected still exist today."

"Mercury, Azure, Crimson, Malachite, Aurum, Roseine, and the Midnight Mesa!" Feldspar recited proudly. "And Verdant, of course!"

Corundum nodded at all of these names. "The Council of Eight still exists today, Feldspar," he said. "Not in its original form, of course, but instead through the chosen successors of the original eight, who still rule the eight cities you've just named. In Verdant City, this rule has always been passed down familially. With the title of Stadium Master."

For a moment, all Feldspar could do was gape. His mouth started moving, but his brain still lagged far behind. The strained, gulping motions he made the Larvitar look like a Goldeen stranded in a desert. Small, desperate, and helpless to act against an already sealed fate.

"That's _stupid_!"

Corundum blinked at his son's first coherent words. "Pardon?"

Despite his small stature, Feldspar had become a fierce sight indeed. His eyes blazed jet fire, and his paws clenched into hard fists. Corundum could nearly feel the intensity of his son's rage quivering through the very tiles on the floor.

"That's the _worst_ reason ever for me to become Stadium Master!" Feldspar declared angrily. "To force myself into a job I hate for some stupid old tradition! For Master's sake, _I_ can'thelp who my ancestors were! I'm not going to try and rule a city just because _they _did! I'd rather be…be…" Feldspar's voice faltered, before rushing back in a frantic shout. "I'd rather be Himeka Madison! At least _her _fatherdoesn't force her into things because of who her family was! _She _gets to do whatever she wants!"

The confusion on Corundum's face rapidly evaporated, replaced by rage. "You should appreciate your heritage, Feldspar," he said in a low, warning voice. "Do not begin to compare us to the Madisons. Countless generations have relied on the Earthshaker family to guide them. Believe me when I say you're not the first who's resisted the title of Stadium Master. But whether you like it or not, it is still your responsibility."

"_Why?_" Feldspar demanded, voice nearing a scream. "Forget about this heritage stuff; I'm just about as qualified as any old person on the street! Why don't you drag one of them in and make _them _the Stadium Master? THEY'RE sure to like it a lot better than ME!"

"SILENCE!"

Feldspar went hurtling into the wall. He crashed down, bringing chips of plaster raining down with him. Cracks formed in the suddenly writhing floor, hairline at first before widening into veritable canyons. Gasping, Feldspar edged up against the wall. His eyes lost all of their angry fire as they grew wide with terror.

Corundum Earthshaker stood at the front of the room, face contorted in undiluted fury. Every ridge in his stony brow seemed to be bulging out at once. Once again, the powerful Tyranitar slammed his tail into the ground. Tiles rattled, then shattered into a shower of sharp fragments as the floor tore asunder.

"You call yourself an Earthshaker?" Corundum said in a deathly quiet whisper. The Tyranitar's muscular tail crashed down again.

A whimper escaped Feldspar as the floor heaved beneath him.

"You're no member of my family," Corundum growled, voice rising in volume. "If you want so badly to desert the position of Stadium Master, then go right ahead! You don't deserve it."

And with that, he turned his back on his son.

"Dad, I…"

The terse reply brimmed over with disgust. "Get out of my city."

There was no shred of bravery left in Feldspar's badly-shaken body. Trembling, he got to his feet and left.


End file.
